


The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High

by MsCaptainWinchester (rons_pigwidgeon)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Background Het, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Child Abuse, Car Sex, Child Neglect, Comeplay, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Homophobic John, Homophobic Language, Human Castiel, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, Sex in the Impala, Sub Dean, Topping from the Bottom, Underage Drinking, dom Cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:12:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 99,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rons_pigwidgeon/pseuds/MsCaptainWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thought Truman High would be like every other high school he's been to in the last year. He has his sights set on getting to third base with the hottest girl in school and doing as little actual school work as possible. Dad will be finished with his job in two weeks, tops, and then they'll be moving on. He wasn't expecting to be clothes-lined by a short, awkward dude in a trench coat, but that isn't going to stop him from thinking it's hot. </p><p>Castiel Novak does not tolerate bullies, so when he sees a fellow senior teasing his new friend Sam, he reacts without thinking. He never thought the guy would be Sam's older brother, nor that his own actions might be the catalyst for the most important relationship of his life.</p><p>High School AU based on a tumblr prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do Not Touch Sam Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> This story was brought into fruition by a tumblr prompt by [buttsexandwaffles](http://buttsexandwaffles.tumblr.com/):
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> Underage High School AU where Dean is picking on Sam and just being a jerkish big brother, giving him a noogie and then all of the sudden he’s slammed against a locker and dragged up by his collar by this little straight-nosed blue-eyed shit who’s a half-head shorter than he is but apparently made of steel, and he just leans in and growls, “You will not touch Sam Winchester." And naturally, Dean just… Wants. Ah, reverse size!Kink and bottom!Dom Cas AND underage.
> 
>  
> 
> While I wasn’t able to fit the underage portion of the prompt into the story, I think the other bits are all present. And obviously, the story sort of ballooned outward from there. I intend for this story to go through to canon. I have at least five chapters entirely finished and several others fleshed out. I plan to publish every other Sunday to keep things consistent (and also to give me a goal so I don't get lazy).
> 
> I have tried to incorporate as much of canon as I could into this story, which has included as much of the dialogue as was necessary. I chose not to add an asterisk to every line taken from canon only because I thought having an asterisk at the end of every other line of dialogue for several pages might get extremely annoying for my readers after a while. However, please note that if the line sounds like it came from the show, assume that it did and give credit to the writers. I will try to add references to the end of each chapter that contains canon dialogue, but if I miss something due to having written several key scenes months before posting, please let me know so that I can give credit where it is due.
> 
> Speaking of credit, thank you to my beta, bellasauraus, for correcting my hilarious spelling errors and giving me excellent suggestions.

Amanda Heckerling is smirking at him from behind her locker door, blonde hair shining in the sunlight. She is gorgeous, blue-eyed, and sweet as pie.. If it is the last thing he does before they leave this god-forsaken school, he is going to find out just how good she tastes. He rakes his eyes down her, smirking back and licking his lips. God, she’s hot. 

And Sam is looking at her as he walks past. Dean doesn’t even have to think before he sticks an arm out and pulls his midget of a little brother in by the neck and growls in his ear. “You see that girl? You do not look at her, talk to her, even think about her, got it? She’s out of your league. I catch you looking at her again, and you’ll wish I’d let that werewolf eat you last summer, capiche?”

Sam rolls his eyes and tries to pull away, but Dean won’t let him go. “Dean, come on…”

“What, you got somewhere you need to be, Sammy?” he asks, reaching up to bury his knuckles in Sam’s scruffy hair. 

Before he knows what’s happening, he’s being shoved into the lockers so hard the wind is knocked out of him. The shock of it makes him lose his grip on his brother, who steps back with giant eyes, white-knuckling his books to his chest. Dean looks down at his attacker and is even more surprised to see a short, black-haired ball of fury glaring up at him. “You do NOT. TOUCH. SAM. WINCHESTER,” the guy snarls, leaning into Dean. 

Dean swallows and wonders who turned the heat up. The guy gives him more glare. Shit, that look gets any more intense and he’s going to set Dean’s jacket on fire.

By now, Sam has shaken his own shock away and is pulling at the kid’s shoulder. “Let him go, Cas!”

The guy glances at Sam over his shoulder, frowns, looks back at Dean, and finally lets him go. “I do not tolerate bullies. Do not touch another hair on my friend’s head or you won’t like the consequences.”

“Slow it down there, Steve Rogers. I’m not a bully. Sam’s my brother. We were having a brotherly talk, weren’t we, Sammy?” Dean knows he should just shake this off and walk away, but he can’t stop staring at the kid in front of him. He’s never been clothes-lined by anything this small that wasn’t supernatural before. 

‘Cas’ turns to Sam. “You let your brother talk to you that way?”

Sam forces a smile and nods. 

“And you are?” Dean asks, voice going uncomfortably low for a second. He swallows again, but doesn’t look away from the guy. He barely reaches Dean’s chin, but his stance makes up for his lack of height. He wears a trench coat that is a little bit too big for him and the ugliest sweater Dean has ever seen underneath, but his eyes are intensely blue and focused, and his face is angular, lips plush and very, very pink. Fucking gorgeous, a tiny voice in the darkest recesses of Dean’s thoughts whispers. He promptly shuts the voice up.

“Castiel Novak. You sit behind me in English.”

“I do?”

“Observant, I see.” He turns to Sam, the glare smoothing off his face. “We’re going to be late for study hall.” 

Sam nods again and drops his books to his side, turning to walk with Captain Trenchcoat. “Let’s go, then. See you after school, Dean.”

“Nice to meet you, _Cas_.” Dean’s eyes go to his ass hidden under baggy khaki fabric. Cas narrows his eyes at Dean over his shoulder and walks away with Sam without saying anything. Dean doesn’t look away until a tap on his shoulder brings him back to earth. Amanda steps into his view, all butter and sunshine, and he forgets all about Cas for the time being.

-

“So, what’s with the trench coat? You auditioning for Casablanca or something?” Dean asks, leaning over his desk to reach Cas’ ear.

Cas turns his head to glance back, his face scrunching in confusion. “I like this coat. At least I do not look like Mouth.”

“What was that; you like my mouth? Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t swing that way.” Dean drags his eyes over Cas’ face, smirk widening. 

Cas only rolls his eyes. “You do, actually, but that is beside the point. I was referring to Mouth from the Goonies, played by Corey Feldman. The rock band t-shirt under an open button-down under a distressed jacket look matches his exactly, and you both appear to never know how to shut your mouths.”

Dean is too stuck on the first part to have even heard the second. “I do not.”

Cas says nothing, only raises an eyebrow. The teacher begins talking before Dean can throw out another denial.

-

“You really like that Shakespeare stuff, huh? You barely had your hand down all class.” Dean pulls Cas in by his neck, grinning as they leave the classroom. Cas looks vaguely annoyed, but doesn’t pull away.

“I had to make up for your lack of intelligence. Did you even read the play?”

“Yeah, I’ve read it. All that star-crossed lover crap, and the thumb biting. Thumb biting? Really? That’s a come-on, not a threat.”

“If you have the romantic sensibilities of a primate, I suppose so.”

“Right, because a 13- and 16-year-old killing themselves over a summer fling is so romantic.”

“Dean, god, would you leave Cas alone? Just because he’s my friend, that doesn’t mean you have to harass him all the time,” Sam whines from behind them. Dean and Cas both turn to look at him over Dean’s shoulder. 

“It’s all right, Sam. We were discussing Shakespeare,” Cas informs him.

“Dean hates Shakespeare.” Sam has his bitch face on. Dean fights not to roll his eyes. He loses that fight.

“Dean was just expressing that opinion.”

Dean slides his arm off Cas’ shoulder and drops it to his side, turning fully to face his little brother. “What’s up, Sammy? Don’t you have class?” 

Sam scowled. “So do you,” he says. 

“You do have biology class in a minute,” Cas chimes in.

Dean turned to Cas, hand to his chest. “Et tu, Brutus ?” He pauses, shakes his head. “Should I even ask how you know that? Never mind.” He turns to Sam. “I will see you after school. And you,” he points to Cas, “stay creepy.” 

Cas rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Dean—Sam.” He nods to them both and walks away.

Sam gives Dean a look. “Could you lay off him, please? He’s my friend.”

Dean grins at him. “I like him. He’s fun to poke.” Sam’s bitch face doesn’t go away. Dean sighs and rolls his eyes. “Sam, I don’t think he minds. If he didn’t like it, I don’t think he’d have any problem clothes-lining me, do you?”

“No, I guess not.” 

“Then don’t worry about it. Get to class; you’ll be late.”

“Dean…”

“Go.” Sam reluctantly went. Dean made his own—much more leisurely—way to biology.

-

“For your next assignment, you will be pairing up with a classmate to re-write a scene from a Midsummer Night’s Dream, using modern-day speech. Next week, you’ll be performing the scenes in front of the class.” A collective groan sweeps the classroom, and the teacher laughs a little at them. “Remember, Midsummer’s a comedy. You can be as silly as you want. Have fun with it. You have the last ten minutes of class to pick your partners and start planning.” The teacher turns from them to take her seat, smiling to herself at the pained looks on her students’ faces.

“Hey Cas, wanna be the Titania to my Oberon?” Dean asks, leaning over his desk.

“Aren’t you more of a Bottom?” Cas responds, turning to him with the smile that always means he thinks he’s hilarious. 

“I didn’t realize you were looking so hard, Cas. It’s a nice one, isn’t it?” Dean licks his lips. 

Cas blows out an annoyed breath and shakes his head. “I am not going to be your partner. You haven’t turned in a single assignment since you got here.”

“That’s why I need you as my partner. Need you to straighten me up, teach me to fly right.” He glances around the classroom and his smile gets wider. “Plus, it looks like everyone else already has their partners. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Cas’ smile slides off his face, only to be replaced by a hard stare. “You are going to do exactly what I say, when I say it, and you are NOT going to flake out on this. Do you understand me?”

“I’ll do whatever you tell me to, sweetheart. Just tell me how high to jump.”

“High.” 

The low growl of it goes straight to Dean’s dick, leaving his jeans a little tight. He doesn’t even blink. Neither does Cas. “So, are we going for burgers to talk about this after school, or what?”

“You don’t have plans with Amanda Heckerling?”

And there goes the eye contact. “I would have, but she has a curfew.”

“As do I.”

“Don’t worry, Cinderella, I’ll have you home before you turn into a pumpkin. And besides, it’s in the name of homework. What parent could say no to that?” He tilts his head to the side and gives Cas his most winning smile, the one that talked Preacher Jim out of telling his dad about using the confessional as a make-out booth and Uncle Bobby out of tanning him for stealing the ’69 Cobra from the garage for the afternoon. 

“I imagine quite a few, if you’re involved.” 

“That doesn’t sound like a no.”

“No.”

“Come on, Cas, why ya gotta be like that? Sam’ll come with us, nice and respectable-like. We’ll write the skit… thing. I’ll have you home before the streetlights come on. It’ll be great.”

The stare-down this earns him rivals a Clint Eastwood film. Dean is not sure he’s going to respond until he does. “Fine, but only if Sam comes with us.” Dean can’t help but pump his fist in the air in victory. “You are unusually excited about homework.”

“Yeah, Cas, that’s why I’m excited. Homework.” 

Castiel says nothing, just looks at Dean like he’s a puzzle he can’t figure out. Dean can only smile back.

-

“I thought you said Sam was coming.”

Dean turns to Castiel, not moving from the wall he’s leaning against. “He’s got chess club or mathletes or some other nerd thing. He should be done in ten minutes or so.” 

Cas steps up to him cautiously, the little wrinkle between his eyebrows fully creased. “You do not like your brother’s intellectual pursuits.”

Dean scratches the back of his head and smiles fondly at the thought of his nerdy little brother. “Nah, I just like ripping on him. Whatever makes him happy makes me happy, but that’s not gonna stop me from teasing him until the day I die. He’s my baby brother. It’s my job.”

“It is no one’s job to tease anyone else. You should accept him and his interests without judgment.”

“If he didn’t get a little ragging from me, how would he know how to handle himself with a real bully? Sammy’s my responsibility. I’m not going to slack off teaching him how to protect himself just because it might hurt his little girly feelings.” He turns his voice soppy and mocking at the end and crowds Cas against the wall, poking his side teasingly. It makes Cas scowl, but he doesn’t pull away, just looks up at Dean with intense disapproval. Something warm shifts in Dean’s belly.

“Don’t we have more important things to talk about? Like how nice you apparently think my ass is.” They’re behind the school, secluded from any stray students or staff still lingering on campus. No one would see if Dean were to lean in, take the kiss he’s been thinking about since Cas slammed him into that locker a few weeks ago . Cas doesn’t look like he’d object—he hasn’t stepped away yet, after all, and they’re a lot closer than strictly platonically comfortable. He decides to take his chance, leaning in over Cas’ lips, almost close enough to touch, but Cas’ hand comes up and forcefully pushes him back a foot.

“You have a girlfriend, do you not?”

Dean frowns, not sure what Cas is talking about until he remembers Amanda. It’s always hard to remember Amanda when Cas is around. “We might have made out in the janitor’s closet a few times, nothing serious. What does that have to do with this?”

“Everything. I do not share. If you are still involved with her—or any other person for that matter—then you will not be permitted to touch me. Is that clear?” Cas’ voice is as serious and stern as it had been when he’d shoved Dean and told him not to touch Sam. 

“I can’t even poke you?” Dean asks, trying for humor. He gently pokes Cas’ side, smiling. His finger is snatched and squeezed tight enough to turn his fingertip blue.

“No.”

“Okay, then, Cas. Whatever you say.” He backs off, holding his hands up in front of him in surrender. Cas doesn’t relax against the wall again, but he stops glaring and settles into his normal stare. Dean leans his shoulder against the brick a few feet away. “Since you’re not walking away, can I assume you’re still up for burgers?”

“Yes, I am still interested in eating burgers and talking about our assignment.”

“Good.” He looks towards the school and sees Sammy walking their way, looking his usual surly. Dean only hopes Cas will put him in a better mood.


	2. The Novaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds a way to break things off with Amanda and spends an unexpectedly pleasant evening at the Novaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this a little bit early because I can. Enjoy!
> 
> This chapter contains dialogue taken directly from Supernatural, Season 4 - Episode 13: “After School Special”  
> Writing Credits: Eric Kripke (creator), Andrew Dabb (writer), & Daniel Loflin (writer)  
> Transcript Used: <http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=4.13_After_School_Special_%28transcript%29>
> 
> Thank you to my beta, bellasauraus, for helping me with this chapter, and also for looking up the episode credits so that I didn't have to.

Jenny isn’t Cas, but she isn’t Amanda either, and he’s never been good at the Talk. Usually, he isn’t around long enough to have to have it, but Dad’s taking forever and Amanda’s getting way too serious for him to feel comfortable. So, there’s Jenny. Someone knocks on the door and Dean calls out over his shoulder between kisses, “Five more minutes, Jerry.”  
  
The door opens. Not Jerry, then. Good. Better now than later. He pulls away from Jenny and turns to the open door. Amanda’s leaning against the jam, looking unimpressed. Dean plasters on his best forced smile and steps out of the closet. “Amanda, hey!” He mutters to the other girl over his shoulder, already knowing Amanda can smell his bullshit, but doing it anyway. “Gettysburg address, 1863, right?” He turns back to Amanda, shrugging. “History test next period. We're studying.” The girl slips out past him. Amanda still looks unimpressed. “Come on, baby. She means nothing to me. Don't be mad.”  
  
Amanda steps back and shakes her head. “I'm not mad, Dean. I thought maybe... underneath your whole ‘I could give a crap,’ bad-boy thing, that there was something more going on. I mean, like the way you are with your brother. But I was wrong. You spend so much time trying to convince people that you're cool, but it's just an act. We both know that you're just a sad, lonely little kid. And I feel sorry for you, Dean.” She steps back, glaring. Her two bitchy girlfriends are giving him the evil eye from behind her.  
  
Dean’s stomach has dropped to his feet, and he feels like he might be sick. “You feel sorry for me, huh? Don't feel sorry for me. You don't know anything about me. I save lives. I'm a hero. A hero!” he retorts. He can tell by the looks the girls give him that he should have kept his mouth shut. There’s snickering. He glares after them and turns around, putting his back to the small crowd that had gathered around them. Cas is standing there, head cocked to the side like a confused puppy.  
  
“Hero? Really?” Cas asks, eyebrow raising incredulously.  
  
Dean pulls him aside because the last thing he needs is more public display, only to have Cas slip out from under his arm and pin him to a locker. Again. It isn’t hard enough to knock the wind out of him this time, though. That was all Amanda. “What did I tell you, Dean?” Cas growls, body locked in holding Dean up.  
  
“That I couldn’t touch you if I had a girlfriend. I don’t now,” Dean answers, forcing a smirk that he doesn’t feel.  
  
Cas stares at him—hard—before letting him go and quietly taking his hand. “Come with me,” he says, leading Dean towards the exit.  
  
“But we have English. Are you really suggesting we skip class, Cas? How rebellious of you.” Dean can’t stop. If he stops, he worries his heart will break all over again. Cas’ hand is warm in his, enough to distract him from his embarrassment and shame. Cas ignores him, pulling him quietly through the crowd, ignoring their smirks and insults as well. They leave the building and walk through the parking lot to Cas’ car, a beat-up old Fairmont with a cracked taillight and a line of rust all along the bottom edge of the casing. “Jesus, Cas, ever heard of a tune-up?”  
  
Cas turns his head to the side and looks at Dean over the hood of the car, clearly confused. “I get oil changes regularly.”  
  
“Yeah, but that taillight’s cracked and the rust. Dude, I don’t like Fords, but you need to take care of your car.”  
  
“It runs. I don’t know what to do about the rest.”  
  
“I’ll help you, if you want.”  
  
Cas’ mouth twitches upwards. “I would like that.” He unlocks the car and gets in before reaching over to unlock Dean’s side.  
  
Dean slips inside, eyes on the upholstery, then the dash. “So, where are we going?” he asks.  
  
“To my house. You looked as though you could use a day off.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess. You didn’t have to skip out, though. I know school means a lot to you.”  
  
“Not as much as friendship. And you are my friend, Dean. I know you don’t like making lasting connections with your… traveling whatever,” he makes a flippant hand gesture as he turns the car on, frowning over at Dean, “and just… being you. But I care about you, and that’s not changing, so get used to it.”  
  
They're quiet for the rest of the ride to the Novak residence, Dean plucking at the worn threads around the hole in his jeans and thinking about Amanda and what she'd said. He wasn't a little boy. He knew how to take care of himself and his little brother in ways she could never comprehend. And he wasn't scared. He'd killed things she didn't even have names for and that would make her run screaming into the night. He is a hero, even if they'd laughed at him. He hopes one day they face a werewolf or ghost with only him to save them. Then, they'd see.  
  
Cas' voice breaks through his thoughts. "Come on, we're here."  
  
Dean looks up to find them parked in front of a farm house with nothing much around for miles except empty fields.  Dean doesn't even remember them leaving town. "This is your house? Kind of a far drive to school, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes. I was homeschooled for my primary school education, but I wanted more social interaction when I reached high school than just the co-op on Fridays. It took a lot of convincing to get my parents to agree to my going to public school, but they eventually consented. I like it."  
  
“Homeschooled, huh? I’m not walking into the Brady Bunch, am I?”  
  
Cas hesitates, half-way between unsure and concerned. “Just… watch your language around my parents. And don’t use the Lord’s name in vein. Mother will not like you if you do.”  
  
Dean gives Cas a long look, lip turning up at one side. “I didn’t know you were a Bible-thumper, Cas. That’s kind of hot.”  
  
Cas rolls his eyes. “I would never disrespect the Bible by hitting it in any manner. My parents are devout Catholics. I have faith, though not to the degree that they do.”  
  
Dean shrugs. “Whatever floats your boat, Captain Trenchcoat. We gonna hang out in the car all day or what?”  
  
Cas narrows his eyes and crooks his head to look at Dean as though he cannot fathom him. “You have no faith?”  
  
“Not at all, but to each his own, right?”  
  
“Right.” Cas doesn’t look convinced.  
  
Dean rubs his hands on his thighs and raises his eyebrows. “So, are we going in or what? Don’t get me wrong, I’m cool with sitting here and making out for a couple hours, but your parents might get suspicious.”  
  
Cas rolls his eyes and pushes his door open. “You’re a pervert. Come on.”  
  
They head into the house, where Dean is instructed to take his shoes off as a small blonde girl pokes her head around a corner. “Cassie, yous home! Mommy, Cassie's home!” she shouts, rushing towards them and wrapping herself around Cas’ legs with a grin. The grin quickly fades when she notices Dean, and she edges around to Cas’ other side, peeking at him behind Cas’ knee.  
  
“Hello, Claire. I have a friend I would like you to meet.” Cas picks the little girl up and turns to Dean, but the little girl hides her face in his shoulder before Dean can really look at her. Cas rolls his eyes. “Sorry, she’s very shy. Claire, this is my friend, Dean. Dean, this is my little sister Claire. She’s three.”  
  
“Three and a half,” the little girl whispers into Cas’ shoulder.  
  
Dean smiles and leans over, trying to catch her eye. “Hi, there. It’s very nice to meet you, Claire.” She peeks at him from Cas’ shoulder, but doesn’t say anything. Dean’s about to try again when footsteps approach from further down the hallway and a woman appears, as blonde as Claire and cautious as she lays eyes on Dean.  
  
“Castiel, sweetie, why are you home? It’s the middle of the day. And whom have you brought with you?”  
  
Cas looks to Dean, hesitant. “Hello, Mother. This is my friend, Dean Winchester. A member of his family has died, and I offered to take him home as a… distraction. We will only be missing Physical Education and study hall. Dean, this is my mother, Amelia Novak.” Dean would be impressed with the smooth lie rolling off Cas' tongue if he weren't so nervous in the face of meeting his mother.  
  
“Hey,” Dean says, shuffling his feet.  
  
Amelia steps up to them, face morphing into a more compassionate expression. “Hello, Dean. I’m sorry to hear about the death. Who was it, if I might ask?”  
  
“My grandma on my dad’s side. She’d been sick for a while, but she was awesome and it just kind of… sucks.” He shrugs, trying to act like he’s holding back his unhappiness. In all honesty, he doesn’t really need to reach far for it.  
  
“I’m sorry to hear it. We’ll be praying for your family.”  
  
“Uh, thanks.”  
  
“If you don’t mind, Mom, I thought we might go down to the basement and play board games,” Cas says, setting Claire on her feet.  
  
“Can I play, too?” Claire asks, tugging at Cas’ trench coat.  
  
“I don’t…” Cas starts to say, but Dean’s already leaning down to her level.  
  
“Sure, sweetheart. You can be on my team,” he tells her, smiling warmly. Claire hides behind Cas’ coat again, but she’s smiling this time.  
  
“That’s very nice of you, Dean, but it isn’t necessary. Claire can stay up here and help Mommy bake bread for dinner, can’t she?” Amelia says, looking down at Claire. Claire turns her eyes to her mother and nods, but she looks sad about it.  
  
“It’s okay Mrs. Novak; I love kids. If Cas is cool with her hanging out with us, then I am,” Dean says.  
  
Castiel nods his ascent and points down the hall. “We’ll be in the basement, Mom.” He picks Claire up and follows Dean down the hall, pointing to a door at the end. Dean hesitates at the door, waving awkwardly at Mrs. Novak before escaping down the dark stairs. Fuck, he hates parents.  
  
The light flickers on, revealing a finished basement full of couches, toys, a kitchen table, and more books than a small library could hold. “Were you going to turn the lights on? How can you walk down the stairs without seeing them?”  
  
Dean blinks up at Cas, not understanding. He walks into dark basements all the time. He shrugs and collapses onto one of the couches. “What’s with the table? You eat dinner down here?”  
  
“Mom teaches down here. Our house was built in 1897. None of the rooms upstairs are large enough for the space we need when all of us are studying at once.”  
  
“All of you? There are more than just you two?”  
  
Cas sets Claire on her feet and goes to a tall bookshelf stuffed full with board games. Claire sits on the couch near Dean, but not within touching distance. She watches him quietly as he watches Cas. “I have six siblings,” Cas explains as he joins them a minute later with a board game. Dean had thought Cas was kidding. He hasn’t played a board game since Sam was eight. This one they definitely never played, even though half the shitty motels they stay in have it. “Candyland?”  
  
Cas gives Dean a death look that brooks no argument. “I honestly didn’t think you would care, and Claire likes this game. Don’t you, Claire?”  
  
She’s perked up in her seat and is grinning from ear to ear. “I want to be the wed person!” she squeals, sliding off the couch to kneel across the coffee table from Cas. Dean follows suit, because really, what else can he do in the face of Cas’ glare and the over-exuberant look on his little sister’s face?  
  
“Well, alright. I’ve never played before, though,” he offers, turning to Claire. “Think you could teach me, Claire?”  
  
She clams up, slinking closer to Cas, excitement fading. Dean looks over at Cas. “Well, someone’s going to have to teach me.” Cas does, smiling a tiny smile to himself. They make it through two games before Claire is bored and demands they play Go Fish. By now, she has gotten comfortable enough to worm her way into Dean’s lap and has been picking his cards and moving his game piece for him for the last-half of the game while Dean asks her questions about her favorite picture books and blatantly ignores Cas’ surprised looks when he can name all the Richard Scarry characters.  
  
Cas gets the Go Fish cards and starts dealing. Go Fish Dean knows, although he’s never played with actual Go Fish cards before, just an old deck of poker cards his dad kept in his duffle. He picks his cards up and pairs up the two matches, then helps Claire pick up hers and tries to show her how to match hers up, too. She’s less successful. They are about to play when the basement door creeks open and footsteps hurry down the stairs. A blond boy a few years older than Claire appears, but stops when he lays eyes on Dean.  
  
“Mom said you were home from school. I didn’t believe her when she said you had a friend over.”  
  
“Very funny, Thomas. This is my friend, Dean Winchester. Dean, this is my brother Thomas.”  
  
Dean nods at him, unable to wave with both his and Claire’s cards in his hands. “Hey.”  
  
“Hi,” Thomas says hesitantly. Dean watches him walk slowly closer, trying to get a glance at what they’re playing. “Go Fish?”  
  
“Yeah, you wanna join us?” Dean asks because why not? Claire takes her cards from him and compresses them in her little hands until she can only see the top card, making him smile. Sammy used to do that.  
  
Thomas kneels at the table, looking at Dean like he might be an alien. “You’re really Castiel’s friend?”  
  
“I am, indeed.”  
  
“But, I didn’t think you had any friends, Cas.” Thomas turns to Cas, who gives him the same death glare he’d already served to Dean.  
  
“In case you were wondering, Dean, Thomas is seven years old and still sucks his thumb. Can we play the game, now, or should I reshuffle to include the thumb-sucker?”  
  
Dean grins. Bitchy Cas is definitely his favorite Cas. Thomas shoves Cas’ shoulder and pouts for a minute, but he quickly gets over it once Claire starts asking Cas if he has a purple puffer fish. “So, there are seven of your guys?” Dean asks as he hands over his hammerhead to Cas.  
  
“Yep! Claire’s the youngest, then Phillip, then me, then Jacob, then Elizabeth, then Castiel, then Christine,” Thomas informs him, bouncing on his heels.  
  
“Your parents know how that happens, right?” Dean asks, giving Cas a meaningful look.  
  
Cas rolls his eyes, but Thomas answers before he can. “Yep! God came down and put His hands on Mommy’s tummy and made each one of us. Isn’t that neat?”  
  
“Neat.” Dean looks at Cas, who looks back without saying anything. Dean knows they’ve been staring too long when Claire shoves her cards in his face.  
  
“Do you have any goldfish?”  
  
“I do in fact have a goldfish. How did you know?” He slides the card from his hand and tucks it into hers.  
  
“I guessed!” They continue playing until half-way through round three, Claire gets bored and wanders off to play kitchen, coming back with ‘tea’ for everyone just as Cas is setting up Monopoly and another set of footsteps descend the stairs.  
  
“Mom wants to know if Dean is staying for dinner. Who’s Dean?” an older girls asks, peering at them from under the ceiling. She’s got Cas’ blue eyes and dark hair, but she’s still too awkward-looking to be gorgeous yet.  
  
“Dean is my friend, Elizabeth. Come down, and I will introduce you.”  
  
Elizabeth takes one look at Dean, and her eyes get as wide as coasters. Dean winks at her, enjoying the flush it causes. “Oh, um… I need to tell Mom…”  
  
“Dean, would you like to stay for dinner?”  
  
Dean freezes, not having realized until just then that it’s late enough for dinner to be had. “I uh… I gotta call Sammy. We didn’t tell him we were leaving. He might be wondering where I am.”  
  
Cas’ brows furrow. “Do you think he was able to get home all right? Do we need to go pick him up?”  
  
“No, I’m sure he figured it out. He knows how to catch the bus. I’ll just call him though, okay?”  
  
“He could come to dinner, as well, if you like. We can go get him at the motel.”  
  
“The motel?” asks Thomas, clearly confused.  
  
“This isn’t your conversation, Thomas.”  
  
“No, I think he’ll be fine. Let me go… call him. I’ll be right back.” Dean gets up and takes the stairs two at a time, sliding past Elizabeth with a sly smile. “Tell your mom I would love to stay for dinner,” he tells her, already fishing his phone out of his pocket. He pulls the antenna up, frowns when he can’t get a signal, wanders closer to the front door, but still no. “Hey, can I borrow your phone? Mine doesn’t have any bars,” he asks as Elizabeth walks past. She stares at him, nods, and points to the phone sitting on the side table across the hall. Dean smiles his most winning smile and picks the phone up and starts dialing Sam’s number.  
  
“Hello?” Sam’s voice picks up.  
  
“Hey Sammy, you okay? Cas and I left school early, and I forgot to tell you.”  
  
“Dean? Yeah, I’m fine. Barry saw you guys leave and told me. Are you coming back soon?”  
  
“I’m sort of at Cas’ house. They want me to stay for dinner. You’ll be okay by yourself, right?”  
  
“Wait, you’re having dinner at Cas’? With his family? But I thought you didn’t do parents.”  
  
Dean feels the sudden urge to stick his hand through the phone line and smack his brother upside the head. “Shuddup. It’s Cas.”  
  
“What are you guys doing over there? Did you meet his brothers and sisters yet? Are there crosses all over the house?” Dean looks around the hallway. He hadn’t noticed before, but yeah, there are a lot of crosses. There’s a crucifix practically staring him in the face, and a framed picture of Jesus with a quote from the New Testament next to the phone base. Huh. Cas wasn’t lying about the religious thing, then.  
  
“Yeah, but it’s fine. We’ve been playing board games in the basement.”  
  
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”  
  
“Watch it, short stack.” He glances up and sees Elizabeth watching him from one of the doorways. She has that weird glassy eyed look freshmen girls get when they look at him, but he doesn’t think she’s old enough to be in high school yet. He grins at her and turns his back on her, lowering his voice a little. “Listen, Sammy, I gotta go. There’s still a couple burritos in the fridge if you’re hungry. I don’t know when I’ll get back, so don’t wait up.”  
  
“Okay, Dean. Have fun.”  
  
“You, too. I’ll see you later.” He waits until Sammy says goodbye before hanging up. Elizabeth is still staring, but she goes wide-eyed when he catches her and disappears behind the doorframe. From the smells that are coming his way, he guesses it’s the kitchen. He slips back into the basement to find another younger boy sitting in his spot. This one is blond and Dean guesses a year or two older than Thomas.  
  
“Jacob has been playing in your stead. I hope you don’t mind,” Cas tells him, scooting over so that Dean can sit next to him. The new boy hands Dean a stack of Monopoly money and points to the iron ‘just visiting’ the jail. Dean tries not to lament not getting to be the car.  
  
“Thanks, Jacob. I’m Dean.”  
  
“Hey,” Jacob says without looking at him. Dean settles into the game, enjoying himself despite being the lame-ass iron, because now he gets to touch Cas whenever he wants and no one else can see. He has his hand curled over Cas’ knee under the table when Elizabeth comes back down and announces dinner. He pulls away as they all get up, but Cas brushes fingers across his lower back as they ascend the stairs, so there’s that.  
  
Cas gets his eyes and hair from Roger Novak, but that is where the resemblance stops. Roger Novak is stiff and stern, both like and unlike Dean’s own father, his stiffness born of a belief of moral superiority and judgment upon others rather than military service and personal tragedy. He questions Dean about everything from his family to his living arrangement to his grades to which church he attends. For the most part, Dean lies through his teeth where he can and tries to give one-word answers while Cas brushes his thigh under the table and smiles encouragingly at him.  
  
When he starts in on colleges, Dean has to correct him. He can lie about a lot of things, but a college boy he is not. “I’m not going to college, sir. I’m going to be a mechanic like my father.”  
  
“You’re comfortable with blue-collar work, then?”  
  
“Absolutely, sir. This country was built on blue-collar work. I don’t see anything wrong with it. Besides, I love cars, and I’m real good at fixing them. And it’s steady work, no matter where you live. Everyone’s car breaks down eventually. I’d say Cas’ car’s maybe 10,000 miles from needing new breaks, and his tires are less than that from needing to be replaced.”  
  
“How do you know that?” Cas asks, face morphing into concern.  
  
“I could tell driving here. I told you you need to take care of your car, dude.”  
  
Cas frowns, but doesn’t disagree. Roger is looking hard at Dean, a look that might have intimidated Dean if his own father wasn’t John Winchester. “We will have to take Castiel’s car in for service soon, then. Thank you.” He turns to Elizabeth and asks how her studies are going, a welcome subject change. Dean survives the rest of dinner, and he and Cas escape downstairs quickly after. None of the younger Novak’s follow, all being forced to clean up and get ready for bed.  
  
“You’re dad’s a piece of work, Cas.”  
  
“Father can be stern, but he means well. And I think he approves of you, so that’s good.”  
  
“Does he know about you being…” Dean trails off, not sure for the first time if Cas even is gay. Yeah, he’s touched Dean and implied that Dean would be allowed to kiss him now that he was unattached, but he could be reading the situation wrong.  
  
“Gay?” Cas finishes for him, voice soft as his eyes dart up to the closed basement door.  
  
“Yeah, that.”  
  
“No. None of my family know except Christine, my older sister. She goes to Georgetown University. What about your family?”  
  
A small ball of panic appears in Dean’s throat. “No, definitely not. Dad’s old-school military. I… yeah, no, that’s not a conversation we’re ever having.”  
  
“My parents are deeply religious and believe homosexuality is a sin, which is why I am confident they would not accept me if I were to tell them. What makes you believe that you father would not accept you?”  
  
Dean picks at the arm of the couch, mulling his answer over. There are a lot of factors that contribute to his knowing his father is homophobic. But there was the first time… “Ryan Thompson, third grade. He had dark hair like yours, and he liked to wrestle during recess. One day, he pulled me behind the jungle gym and kissed me. It wasn’t my first kiss or anything, but it was… better than all the other kisses I’d gotten. I really liked him, like liked him liked him. I went home and told my dad about it. I remember being really excited because Ryan was cute, and he knew about hunting and guns because he went hunting with his dad like I did, and he was just all around cool, and I was excited. It never occurred to me that there might be something wrong with liking a boy. But my dad…” He shakes his head, flashes of the fight John had put up, the feel of his palm forcing itself into Dean’s cheek for the first time. “He didn’t react well, let’s just say that. We moved towns immediately, and I tried to stop thinking about Ryan.”  
  
“And did you?”  
  
“What, stop thinking about him? Not really. I didn’t talk about it, though, and I didn’t mention any crushes on boys after that. I even started making an effort to pursue girls more than I probably would have. I mean, I like girls just as much as guys, but I don’t know. Dad gets off my ass with the queer comments if he sees me making out with a chic as often as possible.”  
  
“Is that why you were seeing Amanda Heckerling?”  
  
“Amanda? No, she’s hot. And she wears the best-tasting lip gloss I’ve ever tasted. I didn’t expect us to be here this long, though. Even if I hadn’t met you, I probably would have dumped her. Commitment doesn’t really… work with my life. She started asking too many questions. Dad wouldn’t have liked it. Not that he’s going to like this, if he ever finds out about us.”  
  
“I wasn’t aware that there was an ‘us’, but I understand what you mean. I do not believe my family would appreciate a relationship outside of friendship between you and I either.”  
  
“So you’re never coming out?”  
  
Cas shakes his head, his body gravitating closer to Dean’s. They both look to the basement stairs as he settles into the crook of Dean’s arm and pulls his knees up to his chest. “I do not believe that would be wise. While I’ve never told my parents about my… interests, I have always known they would not accept the news of my orientation easily.”  
  
“How’d you figure it out?”  
  
“I think I always knew I was different. I chased the little boys around the way the other little boys chased the little girls around at Sunday school. I tried to kiss Michael Rathborne at a church picnic when we were seven. Thankfully, he told our parents I hit him instead.”  
  
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” Dean asks, not sure why he even wants to know.  
  
Cas looks up at Dean with a mischievous smile. “Why do you want to know?”  
  
“Curiousity. Also, I’d like to know who I need to glare at at school tomorrow.”  
  
“Jealous?”  
  
“Very.” Dean is close to kissing him, already leaning in, but Cas’ hand presses to his chest to hold him off.  
  
“You said that you do not like commitment. If I were to permit you to… touch me, I would need you to commit to me, even if only in private.”  
  
Dean deflates a little. “Cas, I can’t. I don’t even know how long I’ll be in town for. Dad’s close to finishing up his job, and we always move on after the job’s done.”  
  
“You would not wish to maintain contact after you leave?”  
  
“Of course, Cas, but I don’t know when I’d be able to get back to see you. And I can’t just… not sleep around. Dad’ll start…” He clenches his jaw, trying not to think about what John would do.  
  
Castiel studies him for a lot longer than is normal. Eventually, he settles his head on Dean’s shoulder and lays a hand on his knee. “I understand. Perhaps we could compromise?”  
  
“Yeah, sure. What kind of compromise?”  
  
Cas traces designs on Dean’s knee. “We stay in contact. We try to see each other when we can. While we’re physically together, we are monogamous. When we are apart, we may see other people, but we cannot talk about it to each other. You do not tell me about the girls you sleep with. I do not tell you if I start dating. And nothing we do outside of each other is allowed to get serious.”  
  
“That works for me. That sounds awesome, actually. Let’s do that.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“So, can I kiss you, then?” Dean asks, running his fingers through Cas’ hair. It’s as soft as he had thought it would be.  
  
“No.”  
  
“What?” Dean frowns, fingers pausing.  
  
“Not in my parents’ house.”  
  
Dean nods and gets back to combing through Cas’ hair. They’re quiet for a while, and Dean tries to ignore the fact that he’s cuddling with a dude in a basement while the dude’s super-religious family gets ready for bed upstairs.  
  
“It’s getting late. I should take you home before my parents start asking if you’re spending the night.”  
  
“I could,” Dean wheedles, smirking.  
  
Cas crinkles his forehead in a frown. “No, you cannot.”  
  
“Dude, I was kidding.”  
  
“Well, either way, I should be taking you home. Come on.” He stands, pulling Dean up with him by the hand. Dean goes reluctantly. Despite himself, he thinks he might have liked to stay curled up with Cas on the couch until the world ends. Mrs. Novak meets them at the door, a book Dean recognizes as one of those Bible scripture books for moms bookmarked in her hand.  
  
“It was nice to meet you, Dean. Please tell your family that we will pray for them.” They had already prayed for them at dinner, much to Dean’s discomfort. He nodded, smiling awkwardly.  
  
“Thanks, Mrs. Novak. It was nice to meet Cas’ family. You all are really great.”  
  
“Thank you, Dean.” She smiles warmly at him and squeezes his arm. Cas turns the doorknob, but Mrs. Novak looks momentarily surprised and stops them. “Wait, I almost forgot. I have cookies for your family. Let me go get them.” She disappears into the kitchen only to come back a second later with a paper plate piled high with chocolate chip cookies and covered in shrink wrap. Dean grins and takes it gratefully. Sammy loves homemade cookies.  
  
“Thanks, Mrs. Novak. You really didn’t need to do that. My brother will love these.”  
  
“It’s the least we could do. Take care of yourself, Dean. We hope to see you back soon.” She squeezed his arm again and went back into the living room. Cas tugged his jacket arm until he followed him outside to the Fairmont. The drive back into town was quiet, Dean fiddling with the radio dial to find an acceptable station. Dean directs him to the right parking space at the motel, but he only gets out when Cas does.  
  
“You coming with, then?”  
  
“No, but hugging inside a car is uncomfortable,” Cas answers, meeting him at the front of the car and standing on tip-toe to wrap his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean sinks into the hug, pressing his face into Cas’ shoulder, fingers clenching Cas’ stupid too-big trench coat. Cas turns his head and kisses him, soft and chaste and way too brief before he pulls away. “I’ll see you before class tomorrow?”  
  
“Yeah, of course. Tell your mom thanks for the cookies.” Dean picks them up from where he left them on the hood of the car, still a little unbalanced from Cas’ touch.  
  
“Tell Sam I said hello. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He reaches up again and kisses Dean’s cheek before heading back to the car. Dean watches him pull away, his heart thumping harder than it had since he bagged his first werewolf two years ago. He turns to the motel door once the Fairmont is out of sight. Thankfully, Sammy’s already asleep and not up asking a million and four questions like usual. He sets the cookies on top of Sam’s books on the table and falls into bed, head full of nothing but Cas.  
  
-  
  
Dean is walking to class with Cas, clenching his fist at every snicker as they pass. Cas doesn’t appear to have noticed anything. He is just turning to say something to him when Dean’s phone starts ringing. Dean grabs the phone from his back pocket and flips it open. “Dad? Hey, yeah. All right, we’ll be ready.” He flips it closed again and shoves it back into his pocket. The bell has already rung, but Cas is watching him, not moving towards the classroom.  
  
“Was that your father?”  
  
“Yeah, Dad’s uh… done, with his job. We’re heading out today after school. I gotta find Sammy to tell him.”  
  
“He is in chemistry. We will see him at lunch. We should go to class.”  
  
“Why would I bother going to class? I’m leaving at the end of the day.”  
  
Cas doesn’t appear to hear him as he grabs Dean’s sleeve and pulls him to the classroom door, giving him no choice but to follow. Dean can do nothing but hiss ‘Cas!’ and allow himself to be dragged. The teacher gives them a glare, but doesn’t comment on the tardiness.  
  
-  
  
Sam is waiting on the curb, pouting and looking up at his squirrelly friend, Barry, watching from an upstairs window. Dean turns to look down at Castiel, upset for the first time that he’s having to leave. He hates this school, but Cas…  Cas is looking up at him with an extra-serious face. “Well, Dad’s going to be here any minute…”  
  
“You are going to call me. And email me. And when you can, you are going to come here and see me. This is not negotiable.” Cas shoves a piece of paper in Dean’s shirt pocket, pushing him up against the brick archway  and reaching up on his toes to shove his mouth against Dean’s. Dean groans in surprise and reaches for Cas, trying to pull him in the way he’s used to, but Cas bites his lip and pulls at his hair, forcing him to submit. His tongue is hot against Dean’s, and he tastes like the most delicious piece of pie Dean has ever had. By the time Cas pulls away, Dean’s wobbly kneed and breathing way too hard from just a kiss.  
  
“Damn, Cas, kiss me like that again, and you’ll need to make an honest man of me.” Cas looks inordinately pleased with himself.  
  
“Dean—Dad,” Sam calls from the curb.  
  
Dean and Cas both turn to see the Impala turning the corner. Cas glares up at Dean. “Call me.”  
  
“Yeah, Cas. I’ll call. Later.” Dean wants to kiss him again, but Dad’s pulled up to the curb, and he doesn’t need to know about Dean’s… other interest. Cas pokes him like he understands and points to the car. Dean walks away, glancing at Cas over the hood when he gets to the passenger side. He can’t do much else but wave before he gets in.  
  
-  
  
Amanda Heckerling has never willingly spoken to Castiel in her life, despite having shared CCD classes with him—and once a desk—since the age of six. The day after Dean and Sam Winchester leave Sioux City, she is waiting for him at his locker. Castiel had not even been aware that she knew where his locker was.  
  
“Hello, Amanda,” he says warily.  
  
“Hey, Castiel. Jenny said she saw Dean and Sam leave with their dad. Is he really gone?” she asks, causing Castiel to frown.  
  
“You verbally attacked him and broke up with him. Why would it matter to you whether or not he has left the school?”  
  
She blows air through her nose and shuffles against the lockers. “It just does, okay? Is he gone or not?”  
  
“Yes, his father has completed his job, and they have gone. I do not expect them to return. Why?”  
  
Amanda frowns and looks down at her shoes. “Jenny also said she saw you kissing him right before he left.”  
  
“That is true. Again, why is this of import to you? You broke up with him.”  
  
“He cheated on me.”  
  
“With Jennifer Wolfe, your friend, if I understand the situation correctly.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I just… was he hooking up with you, too? Jenny is… Jenny, but you’re… a guy. Dean didn’t really strike me as gay.”  
  
“He isn’t. He is bisexual. No, he was not kissing me at the same time as he was kissing you. He tried, but I would not permit him to touch me while he also touched you. I still do not understand why you consider this necessary for discussion. You are no longer seeing him, and he has moved away.”  
  
“I just wanted to know. Sorry I asked.” She walks away, glaring at him over her shoulder. Castiel has a feeling she will never willingly speak to him again. He is not upset over the loss.  
  



	3. Phone Tag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas spend their time apart learning more about each other over the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible triggers for child abuse. It's mild and mostly falls in line with what has already been shown in the show, but still thought I'd warn. 
> 
> This chapter ended up a lot more emotional than I anticipated. I don't think I'm sorry about it, though.

"Alright, you boys good for now?" John asks, slinging his duffel over his shoulder. Dean looks to Sam, internally sighing as he sees Sam's face fall. He knew their dad would be leaving. They didn't come to Utah for no reason. There's a string of murders in the mountains north of town that need solving. They're set up for school. There's food in the fridge. Dean's got the bus schedule. There's no other reason for him to stay.

"We're good," Dean answers. John nods and turns towards the door.

"Alright, watch out for each other. And Dean?" He turns, narrows in on Dean. "No skipping school this time, got it? You're on thin ice as it is. I don't want to come back to a truancy officer, got it?"

Dean rubs his eyes, nodding. "Yes, sir."

"Bye, Dad," Sam offers in a fading voice.

John gives him a half-smile. "See you later, boys. Call me if you need anything."

Sam turns to Dean as the door closes behind their dad, frowning. "He couldn't stay for a day?"

"You know how it is, Sammy. People are dying. I want him here as much as you do, but he has a job to do."

"I know. I'd just like to have him around once in a while."

"Yeah, I get it, Sammy. Wanna go get a pizza later?"

"Sure, I guess. Wanna watch tv?"

"Yeah, sure. You pick whatever. I'm gonna make a quick call." Dean wants to hang out with his little brother, he does, but he's been thinking about the piece of paper in his shirt pocket for days, and this is his first opportunity to use it out of earshot of John. He doesn't necessarily want to hide anything from his dad, but this just... feels like something private. Sam slumps onto the couch and turns the tv on, giving Dean a sullen look he plans to wipe off Sam's puppy face as soon as he's off the phone, but for now he takes out his cell and heads to the bathroom to lean against the sink and fish out the slip of paper. It's a post-it note with Cas' impeccable handwriting. Cursive— _who writes in cursive after the third grade?_ —all loopy and elegant like he's in a Dickens novel. Dean can only just make out the numbers, and he's never even seen an email address in cursive before. He dials the number and hits send after staring at it for half a minute, wondering if this is right.

" _Hello?_ " a boy's voice asks. It's not Cas, but maybe Jacob?

"Hey, uh, is Cas around?"

" _Whom may I say is calling?_ "

"Uh... Dean. Dean Winchester."

" _CASTIEL! DEAN WINCHESTER'S ON THE PHONE!"_ the boy shouts, thankfully away from the phone. Dean hears footsteps and murmuring.

" _Thank you, Phillip,_ " Cas' voice says quietly as the phone exchanges hands. " _Hello, Dean,_ " he says into the phone, his voice warm and soft over the line. Dean hadn't realized how much he was missing the sound of Cas' voice until he heard it again.

"Hey," he says. He glances at his reflection in the side wall mirror and is horrified to find himself blushing.

" _I'm relieved to hear your voice. I was beginning to think you had lost the number_."

"Yeah, sorry about that. We've been in the car for the last couple days. I didn't really want to talk with Dad right next to me, you know?"

" _I do. I assume you are out of the car now?_ "

"Yeah, we're in a motel for now. Start school back tomorrow. Dad's already off to work. Sammy's bummed about it, but we gotta eat somehow, right?"

" _Yes, a means of feeding oneself and one's family is important. Where are you?_ "

"Some backwoods town in Utah. Price or something? I don't know."

" _Are there mountains?_ "

"Yeah, I think I can see them from the window."

" _I've never seen mountains before. They must be beautiful._ " The level of awe in his voice is a little unnerving. Dean's never really thought about it before, that mountains—or any landmark for that matter—could be beautiful.

"I guess. Never traveled anywhere with mountains before?"

 _"I've never traveled at all. It's difficult to do with seven children and the farm to take care of. We've taken road trips to Michigan to see my aunt and uncle and their family, but that's it. I would love to travel like you do._ "

"Maybe we can take a road trip some time when I get a car."

" _A road trip? Together? I think I would like that. Where would we go?_ "

"Wherever you want to go. I've been all over the country." There's a loud crashing sound from the tv, and Dean peaks out around the door to see Sam still curled up on the couch, looking as sullen as ever. "Hey, how about you think about where you want to go, and we'll talk about it tomorrow? I've got a sulky Sammy on the couch, and I gotta spend some time with him, or he'll be impossible to deal with in the morning."

" _Of course, Dean. Does that mean you will call tomorrow?_ "

"Yeah, 'course. You got anything going on after school? I could call then."

" _I have chess club until 4:30. It would be better if you called after dinner, though. I currently have three siblings attempting to listen in on this conversation. If you were to call after dinner, they would all be too busy getting ready for bed to eavesdrop._ "

Dean chuckles, imagining the scene. "Why you wanna be alone, Cas? You gonna whisper dirty things in my ear?"

" _Perhaps. I would at least like the option._ "

All the blood in his body suddenly and dramatically travels to his dick. "Yeah, I definitely want you to have that option, too. How about _you_ call _me_ when the coast is clear?"

" _I do not have your phone number._ "

 "Got a pen?"

" _I do._ "

Dean gives him the number, and he reads it back to make sure he has it correct. Ever the perfectionist. Dean wonders if he wrote it in cursive. Could you write numbers in cursive? "Can you write numbers in cursive?" he asks.

Cas laughs. " _Not in the traditional cursive that is taught in schools, but perhaps in calligraphy. Why?_ "

"Just wondering. Talk to you tomorrow, then?"

" _I look forward to it. Tell Sam hello for me_."

"Will do. Talk to you later." He hangs up, smiling down at the phone as the screen clears, rubbing his thumb over the keyboard. _What am I doing?_ he thinks, shaking his head at himself. He pockets the phone and heads back into the room. Sam watches him make his way over to flop on the couch next to him.

"Who'd you have to call?"

"Your girlfriend."

" _Dean_."

" _Sammy_."

Sam kicks him, making the bitch face of all bitch faces. Dean grabs his leg and twists it behind his butt, making Sam twist almost off the couch, crying out and shoving Dean's shoulder. They wrestle for a little while until Dean finally pins Sam to the back of the couch and holds him there. "Try a little harder next time, small fry," he says, letting go with a hard pat to Sam's back. Sam squirms around until he's sitting on the couch again, pouting. Dean rolls his eyes and gets up to grab a coke. "Stop pouting, you baby. I was just talking to Cas."

"Cas? Castiel Novak?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't ask me five thousand pointless questions or pout like an eight-year-old."

"I hate you," Sam grumbles, glaring.

"I know you do. Now shut up and watch the movie." Sam huffs, but does as he's told. Dean drinks his coke and tries to concentrate on the movie, but his brain keeps flashing back to Cas.

-

" _How is your new school_?" Cas asks.

"Boring. If I didn't worry about Sammy, I wouldn't be going anymore."

" _You can't quit. Having a high school diploma is important._ "

"And why is that, Cas? Did you forget the part where I'm not going to college?"

" _Where do you plan to take your automotive engineering courses? Community colleges require at least a GED._ "

Dean rolls his eyes, grateful Cas can't see him. "I was going to work for Bobby. He doesn't care if I have a diploma or a GED."

" _Dean_."

"Cas."

There's a very loud sigh of resignation on the other end. Dean can sense Cas' frustration from across the country. " _You're just bating me, aren't you? You won't leave school until you have no other choice._ _Sam's still there_."

"You have a point. I don't know if I'll have much more of a choice, though. They almost didn't let me into this one. My grades aren't exactly awesome."

" _Oh._ " The line goes quiet, and Dean's just about to ask how the Novaks are doing when Cas speaks again. " _If you do not finish your senior year, will you at least get your GED? I know it isn't important to you, but I would feel better knowing you had it to fall back on if you need to later. I'm sure Sam would agree with me._ "

"Cas..."

" _Please, Dean?_ "

Dean rubs at his forehead and pinches his mouth closed. Eventually, he caves. "Yeah, Cas, I'll get my GED. You better give me a really good reward for it, though. _Really good_."

" _Don't worry, I'm sure I can think of something_." His voice goes all deep and gravely in a way that sets Dean's whole body on fire. Dean has to adjust his jeans uncomfortably and block out thoughts about Cas rewarding him. Sam's in the room for fuck's sake. Sam gives him a wary look from the other side of the room before going back to his book. Dean's going to make him put it away as soon as he's off the phone with Cas, and they're going to watch some tv for a while. He's done nothing but read since they left Indiana.

"Anything new on your end? How's Claire doing?"

Cas' mood shifts and Dean can hear the smile now. " _She is fine. She asks me about you constantly. She hasn't quite come to understand that you no longer live here. My mother is confused by her insistence that you come visit again._ "

"I'm not. I'm pretty irresistible."

" _Yes, you're like a car accident in that way._ "

"Watch it. Insults might get you laid."

"DEAN," Sam says urgently, glaring.

Dean just laughs at him and waves him off. "Pull the stick out, Sammy. I was only kidding."

" _You are a pervert,_ " Cas confirms.

"Thanks, Cas."

" _You're welcome._ "

Dean doesn't want to hang up, but he doesn't really have anything else to talk about that doesn't involve telling Cas about the ghost twins they salted and burned last week, and he knows he can't talk about that. Even if it was totally badass. "I should probably let you get back to studying. I need to take Sammy's book away and make him do something normal and not nerdy anyway." This earns him another glare from Sam, who pulls his book closer and turns his shoulder away from Dean.

Cas chuckles softly. " _Alright. I'll talk to you soon, I guess._ "

"I'll call you tomorrow?"

" _Tomorrow it is, then. Good night_."

"Night, Cas." He hangs up and gets up, stalking over to the bed Sam's camped out on and snatching the book from him. Sam jumps him to try and grab it back, but he's too short to reach, and Dean just laughs at him.

"DEAN! Give it back!"

"Try again, short stack. Let's watch the game. You need to de-nerd for a while."

Sam smacks his stomach and scowls. "I hate you."

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He grabs Sam around the neck and pulls him over to the couch. The book gets forgotten within a few minutes.

-

" _Hello?_ " a tiny voice says into his ear. He grins even though no one but Sam's around to see him.

"Hey Claire-bear. Do you know who this is?" he asks.

" _I don't think so. Who are you?"_

"It's Dean, Castiel's friend?"

" _Dean!_ "she squeals, and he can hear her little feet jumping up and down on the hall carpet. " _Hi, Dean! I missed you! When are you coming back to see us? Castiel misses you, too, and Elizabeth has been asking about you, and I made a picture of Jesus for you, and I learned how to hold my cards up all by myself, so you have to come and play Go Fish with me and..._ "

Dean knows if he doesn't stop her, she'll go on for forever, so he clears his throat. "I'm really proud of you. Did you have Cas teach you? I wish I could come and play with you, but I'm all the way in Arizona."

" _Where's Arizona?_ "

"Far, far away from where you are. Maybe when school gets over I'll drive back and visit for a while. Would you like that?"

" _YES! You can bring your sleeping bag and sleep on my floor, and we can have a slumber party, and maybe Mommy will make cookies, and we can play Candyland and Hungry Hungry Hippos and Go Fish_."

" _Who are you talking to, Claire?_ " Dean hears Cas' voice coming up to the phone. He glances over at Sam, who has the most bewildered face on, staring at him over his homework.

" _Dean! He's going to come see us when school's out and we're going to have a sleepover!_ "

" _Is that right? Would you mind if I talk to him?_ "

" _Okay. Bye, Dean!_ " Claire shouts into his ear. Dean winces, but manages to say goodbye back to her before Cas' voice takes her over.

" _Hello, Dean_."

"Hey, Cas."

" _I hope you plan on making good on your promise to Claire. I can hear her already telling my mother all about your visit_."

"I'm going to try. I don't really have a car of my own, but I'm trying to get some money together to buy a fixer-upper."

" _You know how to build a car from the frame up?_ "

"Yeah, probably. I haven't had the chance to try yet, but I bet I could. Why?"

" _I believe I might find that an... attractive trait._ " Cas' voice dips at the admission.

"You're an attractive trait," Dean replies, smirking. Sam clenches his jaw and glares at him. Dean just smirks wider and flicks him off.

" _Did I hear Claire say you were in Arizona?_ "

"That's right, for a couple weeks now. I think we'll be moving on soon, though."

" _They have excellent antique cars, if I understand correctly. The dry air preserves their engines better._ "

"Yeah, less rust, too, without the salt when it snows."

" _Would you possibly try to purchase something while you're there, and restore it?_ "

"Would it turn you on if I did?"

" _I believe I would like to watch you work._ "

"Well, I'll just have to wait until I can have you around to watch, won't I?"

" _You will_."

-

Dean doesn't follow Sammy into the house they're squatting at, deciding to call Cas instead. It's been a few days—he's been putting it off because he knows Cas won't like his news—but he can't ignore the need to talk to his friend anymore. He pulls the phone out of his coat pocket and dials. Elizabeth answers, nervous as soon as she hears Dean's name, and has Cas on the phone within seconds. " _Hello, Dean. It's good to hear your voice._ "

"Yeah? You miss me?"

" _I always miss talking to you. How are you?_ "

"I uh... I've got some news. I don't think you're going to like it."

" _Oh?_ "

"Yeah, I've got good news and bad news. Which you want?"

" _Bad first. Hopefully the good will make up for it if the good is told afterwards._ "

"I'm officially a drop-out. When we switched schools this time, they wouldn't let me in, said my grades showed I had 'no interest in furthering my education'. Dad didn't even try to argue."

" _You're father cares so little for your education that he did not even attempt to force the school to permit your attendance?_ "

"I'm eighteen now. They said I was a legal adult and they weren't required to take me."

" _And this doesn't bother you?_ "

"Not really. School was just a waste of time for me anyway. It's not like I paid attention or anything. Now I have time to help Dad work."

" _You aren't going to get your GED, then? I recall your making me a promise._ "

"I'll get it eventually. Sam's been trying to talk me into getting a job so we can get money the 'honest way', but I don't see anything wrong with hustling pool."

" _I thought your father worked._ "

 _Shit_. Dean hesitates before answering. "He does, but he uh... he doesn't get paid a lot for what he does."

" _What does he do, exactly? You said he's a mechanic, but I've never heard of a traveling mechanic._ "

"You haven't asked me what the good news is," Dean says, hoping to deter him. He really doesn't have a good answer to Cas' question.

" _I am going to pretend you did not just deflect my question and ask what the good news is._ "

"Dad gave me the Impala for my birthday."

" _You're father makes no effort to keep you in school, and then gives you a car as a reward? This makes very little sense to me, Dean._ " Cas' tone is suspicious and maybe a little angry, though Dean can't figure out why.

Dean's heart sinks. He had been hoping Cas would be excited. With the Impala, he could visit now. They could go on road trips together. He might even be able to convince his pious friend to have sex in the back. But Cas didn't sound happy. Dean thought he might be a step away from insulting John, which was not something Dean could tolerate, even from Cas. "He said it was a rite of passage. I'm a man now, and I should have something to show for it."

" _And a diploma wouldn't have been a more befitting prize._ "

"Dude, why do you even care? You've only known me for like three months. "

" _Dean, I have already explained to you that I care about you. You are such an intelligent person, Dean. I want you to reach your full potential. I worry that you are going to have a much more difficult time in life without a high school diploma. Will you promise me that you will at least get your GED? I know you said you would before, but I will not feel content until I know that you will._ "

"If it means that much to you, sure. I'll get my diploma. I don't get what the big deal is, though. I'm not like you, Cas. I'm not smart enough to go to college, and even if I was, we can't afford it. And who would take care of Sammy while I did?"

" _Dean Winchester, you are smart enough to do anything you set your mind to. I cannot stand how self-deprecating you are. Do you know how brilliant you are? You could have been an honor roll student if you had paid even a moment of attention. With your upbringing, you could have qualified for enough scholarships and financial aid to pay for college in full. I would have helped you. I already have preliminary research on several colleges that would have worked with you."_

Dean clenches the hand not holding the phone around the steering wheel, gripping tight enough to ache. He just wants Cas to shut up about college and talk about something else, but he knows Cas isn't going to give this up. "What about Sammy?" he asks, because there's no way Cas can have an answer for him.

" _Why doesn't your father take care of your brother? He's an adult, and Sam is his child, not yours. He should already be doing that. He should be taking care of both of you._ "

"He can't. He has to work."

" _Then Sam can live with you. There are scholarships that include a housing stipend._ "

Dean pulls his hand from the steering wheel and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to hold back the frustration and anger that's bubbling. He's never been mad at Cas before, but all this college talk is too much. "Yeah, and I'm sure I'd get those. Thanks for caring, Cas, but I'm good. College isn't for me. I'll get my GED if it'll make you happy, but I uh... I gotta go, okay? We just got in, and I gotta get Sammy some dinner. Call you tomorrow?"

" _Okay. You promise you'll call?_ "

"Yeah, Cas, of course I'll call."

" _Until tomorrow, then._ "

Dean hangs up without saying goodbye and has to resist the urge to throw the phone. He doesn't need to have to get another one on top of everything else. He gets out of the car and stalks away into the woods surrounding the house. When he steps back out ten minutes later, he's scratched up, red-faced, and blotchy, and there are tears in his eyes, but he feels better. He rubs the moisture from his eyes and takes deep breaths until he feels calm enough to face Sammy without giving anything away. He retrieves his phone and keys from the Impala and walks into the house.

-

" _Did we have our first fight last night?_ "

"Yeah, I think we did."

" _Are you mad at me?_ "

"Yeah—no—I don't know. I'm just mad, I guess. Believe it or not, I didn't want to be a high school drop-out."

" _Then, why didn't you fight harder for it? It's like you gave up._ "

"I did. There's no point fighting the tide, Cas. I'm not made for school."

" _I don't know why you think being intelligent is a something of which you should be ashamed. Sam tries hard in school. What happened to make you not?"_

Dean sighs, scrubs a hand over his face, and takes a seat on the steps of the house. "I did once. It didn't work out."

" _What happened, Dean?_ "

Dean picks at a hole in his jeans, trying to find the words. Should he even tell Cas? What's it going to prove, that he was dumb enough to get himself arrested? That he's a juvenile delinquent? Cas'll never want to talk to him again. _Maybe that's for the best,_ he thinks and starts talking. "When I was sixteen, Dad put us up in this cabin in upstate New York so he could go out on a job. I was stupid and lost the food money in a card game. I knew Sammy was gonna get hungry, so I tried for the five-finger discount at the gas station. I got caught and got sent to a boy's home for a couple months. The guy who ran it, Sonny, he's pretty cool, and he kept pushing me to straighten up and fly right. So I did. I was getting good grades. I joined the wrestling team, even won the county wrestling championship. I even had a girlfriend, Robin. I've never told anyone, but she was my first kiss. She taught me how to play guitar, too. She was awesome. We were gonna go to the school dance together and everything."

" _What happened?"_

"Dad came for me. He'd left me there to learn my lesson for losing the food money and stealing, I guess, but the night of the school dance, there he was. Him and Sammy. Sonny offered to let me stay, said he'd fight my dad on it and everything. I really wanted to stay, too. I was finally out, you know? Hell, Sonny didn't even care when I told him I thought I might be bi. He was really a great guy. Told me he was proud of me. No one had ever said that to me before. It was... it was awesome. I was really happy there, you know? If I'd stayed, I'd probably still be in school, might even be thinking about college, who knows."

" _Why didn't you stay? This Sonny sounds like an excellent influence. I know you dislike traveling so much, despite what you might say. You could have had a home._ "

"Yeah, but I couldn't leave Sammy, could I? I looked out the window, and there he was, playing with this stupid toy fighter jet we'd found at a truck stop a couple years before. He looked so little, you know? And I couldn't leave him with Dad all alone. Dad needed someone to take care of Sammy when he was gone, and Sammy needed me to protect him." Dean brushes the stupid water from his eyes and wills the tears to stop.

" _Protect him from whom? Your father?"_

Oh course Cas would get right to the heart of things. Reluctantly, Dean mutters, "Yeah..."

There's the loud sound of something hard smacking onto a flat surface, and Cas doesn't say anything for a minute. " _I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry_ ," he says finally, voice soft and cracking at the edges.

Dean has to find a way to brush it off before Cas starts crying, and he fucking loses it again. "Hey, it's not all bad. If I'd stayed with Sonny, I never would have met you."

" _I'm glad I met you, too, Dean. You are very special to me._ " The yawning pit of sadness in Dean's stomach gets a little bit smaller at the warm way Cas says his name, and all his anger and frustration melt away.

"Don't get all gushy on me, Cas. We've had enough girl talk for the night. Tell me what's going on with you."

" _There isn't much to tell, I guess..._ " Cas begins telling him about the mundane, his family, school. It's nice—normal—and Dean is able to forget his own problems for just a little while and focus on his friend.

-

"You've been on that phone a lot, boy. You got a girl I don't know about?"

Dean sputters in his head. He thought he'd been subtle about talking to Cas, calling him mostly when his dad was out, never talking long if Cas called while his dad was there. "No, sir," he answers, because Cas might be a lot of things to him, but a girl he is not.

"Then who is it?"

"Just a friend."

"This 'friend' a hunter?"

"No, Dad, just a high school kid. Met him in Indiana. Sam's friends with him, too."

Sam shoots him a look from across the motel room that screams that Dean should shut his mouth and keep him out of it, but it's too late, even if Dean had been inclined to listen to him. John has turned to Sam, hunched over his homework on the farthest bed. "That true?"

"Yes, sir. I had study hall with Cas. He's a nice guy."

"How come you aren't playing telephone with this 'Cas', too then, if you're all such good friends with this boy I've never met?"

"He's Dean's age. They spent more time together. And just because you haven't met him, that doesn't make him bad. You haven't met a lot of the kids we meet. You'd have to be around for more than a day or two to meet any of them." And oh, the tone. Dean can feel his dad's anger bubbling from the bed. Dean would be glad the conversation is no longer on Cas except for the damage control he's about to be dealing with.

"What did you just say to me, boy? You watch your tone with me. You aren't too old to get your ass beat for talk like that."

"I'm just telling the truth, Dad. You're never around. It's not fair for you to flip out about Dean or I having friends you don't know when you're barely here enough to know _us_ , let alone our friends!"

It is the wrong thing to say, not that there was a right thing at this point in the conversation. The ensuing fight is so loud they get a noise complaint from the manager and Dean has a split lip from stepping in front of a back-hand meant for Sam. Once Sammy's asleep and John's at the bar, he goes outside and calls Cas, because all he really wants right now is to be back at that farmhouse, playing board games in the basement with his best friend.

" _Hello, Dean_ ," comes Cas' voice over the line. It's deeper every time Dean talks to him, and makes him want to get in the Impala and drive back to Indiana, if only to get another kiss.

"Hey, Cas, how are you?"

" _I am well, Dean. How are you? You sound upset._ "

"I'm not upset, just... Dad and Sam had another fight, and I just. I just wish they could see eye-to-eye, you know? I'm tired of having to get between them all the time."

" _Are you hurt?_ "

"Just a split lip, no big deal. Sam said Dad was trying to control our lives too much, and Dad got all pissy about Sam talking back and went to smack him, and I got in the way."

 _"You shouldn't have to shield your brother from violence, Dean. If you want to, you could come stay here. My parents might be religious, but they would never turn away someone who needed shelter._ "

"No. Thanks, Cas, but no. Dad needs us. He's already lost Mom. He'd fall apart without us there."

" _And that gives him the right to talk to you the way he does? To hit you?  And what about Sam? Does he deserve to be treated that way, too?_ "

"No, of course not, but I can't... He's our dad, Cas. He's the only family we got besides each other. We can't just turn our backs on him. Besides, he's doing the best he can to keep us safe the only way he knows how."

" _I know how you feel, Dean. I understand. I just want you safe_."

"I am. I can take care of myself, and Sam. I know you don't like him, but Dad's just trying to protect us." Cas snorts from the other end of the phone. Dean smiles to himself, scuffing his toe on the concrete. "Enough about me, how are you doing?"

" _I am well, excellent actually. I've received acceptance letters from the University of Notre Dame, Georgetown University, Boston College, and the University of Chicago._ "

"That's awesome, dude! Where are you going to go?"

" _I haven't decided yet. I have received good offers from all four. My parents would like me to go to Georgetown, but they also want me to become a senator, and I am not... that way inclined._ "

Dean tries to imagine Castiel as a senator, stern-faced and speaking earnestly about the 'real issues', but all he can do is shake his head. Castiel might be smart enough and persistent enough to be a politician—and Dean has to shift his jeans thinking about Cas in a monkey suit—but he has the charisma of a wet blanket. "Dude, no. That's like, the worst idea ever."

_"Agreed."_

"So, what do you want to do?"

" _You would make fun of me if I told you._ "

Dean grins even though Cas can't see him. "Oh no, you have to tell me now. This is going to out-nerd Sam, isn't it?" There's muttering on the other end, too jumbled and low for Dean to make sense of. "Say again?"

Castiel sighs, and it sounds to Dean like he might be in actual pain. " _I think I would like to be a librarian_."

Dean starts laughing so hard he has to crouch down against the wall. He can hear Cas grumbling when he settles down enough to listen. He chuckles a few final times and then straightens up, clearing his throat. "I'll have to get you some cardigans."

" _Dean—_ "

"Maybe some of those tweed jackets with the patches on the elbows."

"DEAN—"

"Hey, maybe we could play naughty librarian. I could turn in some really overdue library books, you could punish me..."

" _I knew I shouldn't have told you_."

"Aw, Cas, don't be like that. I'm sorry, really. If you want to be a librarian, I'm 100% behind you. Which school has that... degree?"

" _Being a librarian requires a Master's degree, but you can get your undergraduate degree in any subject beforehand. I am thinking of getting a degree in linguistics, or possibly double-majoring in linguistics and literature_."

"Linguistics? Like languages?"

" _Yes. I am already fluent in Spanish, French, and Latin. I would like to learn more_."

"You speak Latin?"

" _Yes_."

"Like Latin Latin? Or Pig Latin?"

He can sense Cas clenching his jaw, but there's a hint of amusement in there, too. " _The original_."

Dean's first thought is for hunting. Bobby knows Latin. "That's kind of hot," he says, because of course he can't tell Castiel about hunting. And while it's not hot for Bobby to speak Latin, Dean can only imagine hearing it out of Cas' mouth.

" _I thought you were going to make fun of me again._ "

"It's geeky, I'll give you that. But you being smart isn't exactly a turn-off, you know?"

" _Thank you, Dean._ "

"You're welcome." Dean looks up at the sound of a car heading coming down the road and glances up to see the truck his dad bought when he gave Dean the Imapala heading towards him. He clears his throat. "Hey Cas, I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow?"

" _I look forward to it_."

"And Cas? If it's any help, I like Chicago."

" _And why is that?_ "

"We go through there a lot."

" _I'll keep that in mind, Dean. Good night._ " Cas' voice has gone warm and soft, a matching warmth flickering in Dean's chest hearing it.

He smiles to himself. "Night, Cas." He flips the phone closed and slips it into his back pocket just as the truck pulls into the parking lot and parks in front of him. John narrows his eyes at Dean as he gets out of the car.

"Talking to that boy again?" he asks. He looks a little tipsy, but not drunk. It's something.

Dean stiffens, not ready to have this argument all over again. "Yes, sir."

John looks at him long and hard before asking: "You tell him about hunting?"

"Of course not, sir. Cas's a civilian." John looks like he's going to badger Dean more, but Dean keeps talking. "Look, Dad, Cas is my friend, but that's it. I'm not going to tell him about hunting. I won't let him get in the way of hunting. Or taking care of Sam. He's just someone I talk to about, you know, normal stuff."

"'Normal stuff'?" The incredulousness in his voice rankles Dean, but he pushed the annoyance aside.

"You know, travelling, music, tv. We were just talking about which college Cas is going to. Normal stuff."

John eyes him warily. Dean thinks maybe he doesn't believe him, maybe he senses the way Dean can't think about Cas without remembering the kiss they'd shared and trying to figure out when the soonest he can get back to Indiana is. Whether he does or doesn't, it's obvious that his father isn't happy. "You should stop talking to that boy. You'll slip up, tell him something he shouldn't hear. You're a hunter. Hunter's don't have friends outside of the life."

Dean frowns, looking down at his phone. He doesn't want to have to stop talking to Cas, but he will if his father orders him to. "Is that an order, sir?"

"Call it a suggestion."

"Yes, sir," Dean says with relief. Suggestion means that if he stops calling Cas as _much_ he doesn't have to stop calling him _all together_. Suggestion is better. Dean slides the phone back in his pocket and follows his father into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some dialogue paraphrased from Supernatural, Season 9 - Episode 7: "Bad Boys"  
> Writing Credits: Eric Kripke (creator) & Adam Glass (writer)


	4. You're a College Student, Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel goes to college, meets new people, goes on his first date, and has lots of awkward, but still hot-as-hell phone sex with Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed chapter for now, sadly. I didn't decide to write this chapter until two weeks ago, and I've only completed writing it today. I would have waited until it had a chance to get to beta, but I wanted to stick to my schedule. If you see any grammar/spelling issues, please let me know, and expect a re-post with edits sometime soon. I already have chapter 5 and 6 written out, and I'm going to try to stay ahead of the game so this doesn't happen again.
> 
> Please note that additional tags have been added to the story's description.

The three-hour drive from Fairfax was a trial in patience as Thomas spent the entire ride trying to cram as much annoying little brother behavior as conceptually possible before Castiel was out of his reach until Thanksgiving. But now that he is on campus, the prospect of leaving his home and his family—even his annoying little brother—is beginning to weigh on Castiel. _Can I really do this? What if I get sick or fall down a flight of stairs and break my leg? What if I don't make any friends?_ These and a hundred other worries flew through his head as his family began to unpack the car. By the time they were ready with the first load of suitcases and bedding, he was very near a panic attack, but one step into the lobby of his new dorm calmed him immediately. It was like walking into the halls of Oxford—or at least what he imagined doing so would feel like.

"This is beautiful, Castiel," his mother says, looking around the spacious foyer.

He nods, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. "Yes, it is. It's hard to believe I will be living here."

"The paperwork says you'll be on the third floor," Roger offers from directly behind them.

Castiel turns, frowning. "I wonder if there's an elevator."

"The elevator is located around the corner. Hello, I am the Resident Master here at Burton-Judson Courts, Gandira Yadav. My wife, Yashawanthi, is talking to another new student over there," a short Indian man greets them, pointing to an Indian woman with dark hair long enough to sit on, talking to another freshman and her family across the foyer from them.

"Hello, sir. I am Castiel Novak. These are my parents, Roger and Amelia Novak, and my siblings."

"Our new linguist? Lovely to meet you finally, Castiel, Mr. And Mrs. Novak. Rest assured that we will be taking excellent care of your son here at Burton-Judson Courts. Let me show you to your dorm room. The elevator is this way." Mr. Yadav explains some of the highlights of Castiel's new dormitory as he directed them to the elevators, and is kind enough to take them all the way to Castiel's door. He leaves the keys with Castiel, along with instructions on how to find the Resident Masters' living quarters should he need anything. The courtesy is much appreciated by Castiel and his family, and even his littlest siblings pay polite attention, though Claire only looks to be interested because she has never met an Indian person before, and she starts fading fast when he starts to explain the bus routes to and from campus, and which areas of the city to avoid for safety reasons. Castiel feels welcomed and reassured that he will not be as horribly off as he had begun to fear he might be, and even his dorm room is not as small or uncomfortable as he had anticipated.

They drop off the first load of belongings, and Amelia, Claire, and Jacob stay behind to make the bed and begin the unpacking process, while Castiel and the others make the second trip down to the car.

A girl is helping to spread out Castiel's comforter when they return, and his mother hurries to introduce them. "Castiel, this is your neighbor, Avery Wells. Avery, this is my son, Castiel. Avery was kind enough to pop in to help me unpack for you," Amelia explains, offering an encouraging smile.

Castiel smiles at Avery and holds out his hand to shake. She is blonde and pretty, and Cas has a feeling his mother is hoping he will show romantic interest in her. He will have to explain as soon as his family has gone, but for the moment he is happy just to have a new acquaintance.

"Hi, Castiel, it's nice to meet you. I live next door, and I saw your little sister trying to escape, and thought I'd come check things out. You're in Linn-Mathews, right?"

"Yes," Cas answers, blinking. He hadn't expected people to know who he was before he got to campus.

"Yeah, you're the last of us freshman to move in, but don't worry. The other guys are cool. I should probably leave you to get all unpacked and everything, but we're going to a movie later if you want to come."

"Yes, I would like that, thank you," Castiel answers with probably more surprise than is warranted. Perhaps he isn't going to be alone after all.

"Excellent. I'll stop by and pick you up before we go. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Novak, Claire, Jacob." She slips out passed Castiel's father with a wave and a flip of her golden hair.

"She was nice, Castiel," Amelia prompts, taking the box Roger had been holding and setting it down to unpack it. "She told me she plans to major in English Literature."

"She was really pretty, too!" Claire adds, grinning as she wraps herself around Castiel's leg.

"Yes, she was, Claire. Did you like her?" Castiel asks, patting her head.

"Yep!"

"Then, I shall endeavor to like her, as well," Castiel says, leaning down to give his sister a kiss on the cheek before moving to help unpack.

-

Castiel had had time to settle in, had had his first outing with his fellow students, had even had his first slice of Chicago-style pizza. He had not stopped grinning for the last four hours. His house-mates were wonderful, his dorm room was clean and did not appear to come with noisy neighbors, his room was mostly unpacked, and he had three days until classes started. And best of all: he had his very own cell phone and an empty dorm room with which to use it.

" _Hello?_ " Dean's wary voice whispers from the other end of the phone line. Cas' grin grows wider.

"Hello, Dean."

" _Cas? Hey, wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. How was moving day?_ " There are sounds of rustling fabric and movement, then a door shutting, and Dean stops whispering. " _This your new number?_ "

"Yes, it is. Moving was quicker than I expected. My dorm room is a little bigger than I thought it would be, and my hall-mates are nice."

" _Yeah? You meet anyone cool yet?_ "

"I've already gone out to dinner and a movie with everyone from my House. They're all so interesting and amusing, and they made me try deep-dish pizza, and it was amazing!"

Dean chuckles. " _It is amazing. I'm glad you're having fun. Tell me about this... did you say house? I thought you were moving into a dorm._ "

"I have. The dormitories are separated into Houses, much like the educational system in the United Kingdom. It's meant to foster solidarity and friendly competition between Houses. Mine is called Linn-Mathews, named after—" He would have gladly explained the history of his House to Dean, but Dean promptly cuts him off.

" _Yeah, yeah, onto the important stuff. Tell me about these people you met_."

Cas rolls his eyes, but he's too excited to comment on Dean's lack of academic interest. "Alright, there's Avery Wells. She lives next door to me, and she's very nice. I think you will like her. She is what I believe you would call 'hot' and incredibly interesting to talk to. She told me the entire history of Oscar Wilde while we were waiting for the bus. Did you know he was imprisoned for being a homosexual by his lover's homophobic father?"

" _No idea who that is, Cas, but I met a stripper once named Octavia Wilde._ "

"Dean, honestly. Oscar Wilde was fascinating. You should read some of his work. Perhaps we could read _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ together?"

" _You're gonna make me read, now? I knew college was a bad idea_." Castiel only doesn't scold him because he can hear the humor in his tone.

"Yes, well, maybe not. Anyway, I think Avery will make a very nice friend."

" _Did you tell her you're gay yet, or are you gonna break her heart first?_ "

"I did, though I have no idea why you would think I could break her heart. She took it well, as did my other house-mates."

" _Yeah? Good, tell me about them_."

"Well, there's Joren, who is from Denmark. He's... different, but pleasant. His accent is fascinating to listen to, and he speaks French, so I have someone to continue practicing with, which is good. There's also Neil. He's very amusing, and I think he might be interested in Avery."

" _You did say she was hot._ "

"I did."

" _Either of the guys hot?_ " Dean asks with a slight hesitancy.

"No, not that I would tell you if they were. We agreed not to talk about our other potential partners, remember?"

" _You can still tell me if you think one of them is hot. Just don't tell me if you make out with one of them._ "

"I only want to make out with you."

" _Yeah?_ "

"Yes. In fact, I wish you were here now, so that I could do just that."

" _Yeah? What would you do with me if you had me there?_ " Dean's voice drops an octave, and Castiel feels the first signs of arousal.

He spreads out on the bed with the phone to his ear and licks his lips. He thinks he knows where Dean's going with this, and though he's nervous, he's also a little bit excited. "I'd probably kiss you."

" _Yeah? Where?_ "

Cas frowns. "What do you mean? On your mouth, of course."

Dean laughs. " _There are other parts of the body to kiss, you know._ "

"Like where?" Cas asks. He shifts further down the bed and lets his free hand start to rub down his chest over his shirt.

" _Like your neck. That's where I'd start, just behind your ear. You'd like that, wouldn't you? I'd nibble on your earlobe a little, then lick down your throat to your—_ "

"That sounds incredibly unpleasant, Dean. Why would I want you to bite me on my earlobe? I'd much rather you kiss me."

" _Cas, shut up and listen, would you? It'd feel good, I promise._ "

"Alright, but I still think it would be painful."

_"It wouldn't be, not the way I do it. Anyway, I'd lick down your neck to your collar bone, and then back up the other side to your jaw."_

"That's an awful lot of licking. It sounds wet."

" _You sound wet. Wait, that didn't..._ " Dean lets out a loud sigh. Cas starts laughing, rolling nearly off the bed, because really, this is just ridiculous. He's still half-hard, though. " _It's kind of hard to be sexy when you keep correcting me, Cas. Do you want to have phone sex or not?_ "

He settles, toning down his giggles and getting a better grip on the phone. "Yes, Dean. I apologize. I'm new to this."

_"Me, too, baby, me too. Okay, where was I?"_

"I believe you were about to kiss me for real."

" _Mmm, I was. I'd start by sucking your bottom lip into my mouth, maybe nibble it a little."_

Cas cannot help but start giggling again. "I had no idea you were such a biter, Dean. _"_

 _"Okay, so we're not doing this, then,_ " Dean starts to grouse, clearly done with Cas' interruptions.

Cas sits up, shaking his head though Dean can't see him. "No, no, I'm sorry. I like it; I promise. Please, continue."

 _"I don't think I want to now that you're laughing at me_."

"What if I told you I'm taking my shirt off right now?" Cas asks, pulling his shirt up his stomach, and trying to maneuver it over his head without dislodging the phone.

 _"Yeah? I can get behind that._ "

"Good. You were kissing me?" Cas prompts, laying back once the shirt's off so that he can get comfortable again.

" _Well, now that your shirt's off, I'm gonna have to do some exploring. You laying down?_ "

"Yes, I am."

_"Good. If I were there, I'd be playing with your nipples right about now. Any idea how good a tongue on your nipple feels, Cas?"_

"No, of course not, Dean. But I think I would like it."

" _Why don't you try it with your fingers. Rub them over nice and good and give 'em a little pinch._ "

Cas moves his hands down his chest, eyes closed tight as he begins playing with his nipples. His actions send a tendril of shocked pleasure down his spine and he gasps, squirming a little on the bed. He can hear Dean's breath shallow out at the sound.

" _Like that, baby?_ "

"Yes, it's surprisingly pleasant."

" _Good, now give them a little hard tug._ "

Cas does and cries out at the pleasure. "Dean..."

He can hear the grin in Dean's raspy response. " _Knew you'd like that. If I were there, I'd be biting them, nice and hard. You'd be squirming for me, wouldn't you, baby?_ "

"Yes, Dean." Cas' hip thrust upwards involuntarily only to meet air. He wishes he had Dean over him to rub against instead.

" _Fuck, you probably look so hot. I'd be going for your pants now. You wearing any?_ "

"Of course, Dean. Why wouldn't I be wearing pants?"

" _In bed, all alone? I wouldn't be. In fact, I'm not, just boxers, and I've got those down already. Lose the pants and the underwear._ "

Cas hesitates, frowning. "Are you telling me you're..."

" _Yeah, why don't you join me?_ "

Cas imagines Dean laying in bed, shirtless with his boxers pushed down around his knees, his hand stroking his erection. "Oh! I um... you're... o-o-okay," he stutters, distracted by the image of Dean. He fumbles with his trousers, but ends up having to drop the phone before he can get them down and off. When he gets the phone next to his ear again, Dean's breath is husky and there's a wet sound Cas can't identify.

" _Are you good and hard for me, baby?_ "

"Yes, Dean. What would you be doing to me now?"

" _What do you want me to do to you?_ "

Cas hesitates, biting his lip. He feels a strange combination of incredibly turned on and sort of ridiculous. He's never even gone past kissing in person, and he now he's about to tell Dean his sexual fantasies? He pictures Dean again, all but naked and stroking himself, awaiting Cas' answer. "I want you to touch me."

" _Oh yeah? Where?_ "

Cas groans, rolling onto his side with the phone wedged between his cheek and the pillow. "You're really going to make me say it?" he asks, embarrassed.

" _Why, you shy—_ " There's a loud beep, and the phone abruptly cuts into silence. Cas sits up, confused, picking the phone up to look at the screen. The call was ended, but why would Dean...? _I must have hit the END button with my cheek. Crap,_ he thinks, quickly dialing Dean's number again. " _Where'd you go, there?_ " Dean asks.

"I accidentally hit the END button with my cheek, sorry. Not exactly sexy..."

Dean chuckles low and warm with affection. " _You're always sexy to me, Cas. Now, where were we?_ "

Relief washes over Cas at Dean's easy acceptance of his mistake. He shifts back onto his back, holding the phone up carefully so he won't hit the wrong button again. "You were about to touch me inappropriately, I believe."

" _That sounds like something I might do. I bet you're hard as a rock for me, aren't you, baby?_ "

"Yeah. Are you?"

" _Oh yeah. Want me to make you come?_ "

"Yes..." Cas curls his fingers around his own erection, imagining what it might feel like to have Dean doing it instead. His body feels hot all over, and he's already been leaking pre-come for a while now. He uses it to stroke himself, gasping at how good it feels.

" _I can do that. I'd grip you tight and stroke you good and fast. You're gonna be a screamer, aren't you, baby? When I really get to touch you. I'm gonna kiss you all over, make you shake for me, baby, beg me to touch you. You want that?_ "

"God, yes... oh god, Dean, I'm gonna..." He doesn't get to say the rest before he's trembling and gushing come onto his hand and chest. He vaguely hears Dean curse, thinks he might have come, too. Cas closes his eyes, panting, weak. Dean doesn't say anything for a long while, but Cas can still hear him on the other end.

Eventually, he chuckles breathlessly. " _Dude, I can't wait to come see you. That was awesome._ "

Castiel cannot help but agree, huffing out a laugh of his own. "I've never done anything like that before. I agree that it was surprisingly pleasant."

" _I haven't either, but yeah, we're definitely doing that again._ "

"Not just the phone sex, though. You should probably know that I've never done... anything before."

" _You telling me you're a virgin, Cas?_ "

"In every way, yes. I haven't exactly had the opportunity before."

" _We'll just have to see what we can do about that, then, yeah? If you want to, that is. I wouldn't, you know, make you or anything._ "

"I would like that very much. When will you be coming to see me?"

" _I don't know, yet. I'm trying really hard, though."_

"Good, I miss you."

" _Yeah? Me, too._ " There's the sound of water running and splashing. Dean must be cleaning himself up in the bathroom. Castiel takes the chance to find a washcloth and wipe himself down. He'll have to shower when he gets off the phone.

"I should get ready for bed. I promised Avery I would meet her for breakfast in the morning, and it's already past 1:00 in the morning."

" _Yeah, it's like 2:00-something here. Call you tomorrow?_ "

"I look forward to it. Perhaps we could do more of the... thing we just did."

Dean laughs out-right, but it doesn't sound like he's laughing at Cas' expense, so he doesn't mind. " _Definitely. Night, Cas._ "

"Goodnight, Dean." He hangs up and sits smiling at the phone for a while afterwards, uninterested in moving for the time being. Eventually, he does get up and gathers his toiletries to brave his first communal shower. It is neither as pleasant or unpleasant as he had imagined when he first found out about them. He goes to bed smiling.

-

Dr. Petronilla Märtz is the most fascinating woman Castiel has ever had the pleasure to meet. She teaches language in a manner that fascinates him. Language acquisition has always come easily to him, but something about her methods resonate well with him.

He stands from their latest session with a sense of confidence that he will be able to master German as thoroughly as he has mastered his other fluent languages. He turns to leave, and there's a guy standing at the end of his row, looking at him hesitantly. He is pale and blond, attractive in an unconventional way. Castiel recognizes him as a fellow student who always sits on the other side of the classroom and almost never talks.

"Hallo?" Castiel greets, stepping forward.

"Hi, um, Castiel, right? I'm Roderic.I just... er, I wondered if you might fancy getting a coffee with me?" Roderic has an English accent, Castiel thinks possibly southern, and his voice is much deeper than Castiel would have anticipated, given how skinny and meek he appears.

Castiel momentarily considers what Dean might think of him going to coffee with another man, but quickly dismisses the worry. It is unlikely that this man means to ask Castiel on a date. He probably just wants to discuss the coursework. And even if he is interested in Castiel romantically, Castiel knows that Dean is regularly sexually active. There's no reason he cannot get coffee with an attractive young man himself. "I... Ja, das klingt nett."

Roderic looks unsure, fiddling with the hem of his cardigan. "Does that mean yes? Sorry, I'm crap at this German stuff."

Castiel smiles, taking the final few steps to stand in front of Roderic. "That was a yes. I believe I would like to go to coffee with you. Did you intend for us to go now or at a later date?"

Roderic is beaming "Er... would now be alright? If you have somewhere else to be, we could plan for later?"

"I do not have anywhere else to be at the moment."

"Coffee shop down the street, then?"

"Lead the way." Roderic does, making sure that he walks next to Castiel and is attentive to him. They chat about their coursework and how much each likes the professor, before moving on to more personal topics. It is pleasant, and not as nerve-wrecking as Castiel had always believed his first date would be. When Roderic walks him back to the dorms a few hours later, he is surprised to find the young man lives on the first floor of his building. Roderic walks him to his door like a gentleman.

As they stand there chatting, it occurs to Castiel that a date usually ends in a kiss. He looks up at Roderic, smiling happily and chatting about his favorite restaurant in the city and how they should go there, and takes hold of his jacket lapel, pulling him down into a chaste kiss. Roderic makes a surprised noise, but doesn't hesitate to return the kiss, cupping a hand to Castiel's cheek. It isn't as assertive as Dean's kiss had been, and the same butterflies that had occupied his stomach then are absent now, but it is pleasant. He pulls away smiling. "I had a nice time with you today. Thank you for inviting me and for the coffee."

"Thank you for agreeing. I was sure you wouldn't. Would you be interested in going out again?"

"I believe I would, yes. Should I give you my number?"

Roderic's smile turns cheeky. "I wouldn't object." He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, ready to punch the number in, and Castiel quickly gives it to him. They exchange another smile, and Roderic swoops in for another quick peck on the lips, before slipping off back downstairs, presumably to his own room. Castiel opens his door with a smile, and isn't at all surprised when Avery arrives five seconds later to interrogate him.

-

Dean just saved a little girl from the angry ghost of her abusive grandfather, and now he's having a slice of celebratory blueberry pie while he waits to pick Sammy up from school. All-in-all, Dean's having a kind of awesome day. He pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket and dials Cas.

" _Castiel's phone. How may I help you?_ " a female answers after three rings.

"Who's this?"

" _Avery, who's this?_ "

"This is Dean. Where's Cas?"

 _"Dean? Hot, long-distance boyfriend Dean? I've heard a lot about you._ "

"Oh? Cas talks about me?"

" _Oh yeah, he told me all about your hotness. Plus, I heard him moaning your name through the wall the other night. Sounded kind of kinky if you ask me._ "

Dean presses the heel of a hand into his eye. "Yeah, uh... thanks. Is Cas around?"

" _He's in the bathroom, getting ready for his date. You have some competition there. I saw the other guy walking Cas home the other day, and I gotta say he wasn't hard to look at.Had a nice English accent, too._ "

Dean pauses. He hadn't realized Cas was dating anyone. Part of him is just a little bit worried, but he shakes it off. "Cas can do whatever he wants; I'm not worried. You didn't hear him calling that dude's name through the wall, did you?"

" _Not yet. You planning on coming to see him soon, or what? He's not gonna wait around forever. I know he told me you guys have an open relationship, or whatever, but Cas needs a good bump-n-grind as much as anyone. You don't want him doing that with anyone else, do you?_ "

"He won't. What about you? I heard you're not too bad to look at, yourself."

" _Oh, did you? Well, Castiel wasn't lying. You know, if Cas does ever drop you like a hot potato, I would be more than happy to lick your wounds for you._ " There are sounds of a door opening and movement, then Cas' voice in the background.

" _Who's on the phone?_ "

" _You're boyfriend. He sounds like sex on legs_."

There's a grunt that sounds distinctly like Cas. " _He_ is _sex on legs. Give me the phone, please._ "

" _Later, hottie,_ " Avery says into the phone. A second later, Cas is there.

" _I apologize for my friend. She does not know how to keep her hands off other people's things._ "

"Don't worry about it. I think I might like her."

" _She is a pleasant companion. You are calling at an unusually early hour today."_

"Yeah, I had kind of an awesome day. Thought I'd call early. I heard you got a date, though, so it's good I caught you."

" _Avery was not supposed to mention that. It is nothing serious, I can assure you._ "

"Cas, I don't care if you go out with other guys. Not exactly a saint myself, am I?"

" _Regardless, I will keep my dalliances as emotionless and non-sexual as possible. I do not wish to have either with anyone but you_."

"Okay, cool. Uh...you gotta go now or...?"

" _I have a few minutes. Tell me about your awesome day_."

Dean does, as much as he can without revealing the morning spent in a cemetery in the middle of nowhere, digging up a grave so he could salt and burn a body that was only just beginning to rot. Cas has to hang up a few minutes later, but he leaves Dean with a promise to call him the next night for a round of phone sex, which is alright with Dean. He tucks his phone into his pocket with a renewed resolve to get time off to visit Cas.

-

"What would you like to do tonight?" Castiel asks, pulling one of his feet onto his bed and hugging his knee.

Avery swirls in his desk chair, leaning her head back so her long hair nearly gets caught in the chair wheels. "There's a Greek party on the Loyola campus we could crash."

Cas tilts his head, intrigued. "I have never been to a party before, but if they are anything like the fraternity parties I have seen in some of the movies Dean has forced me to watch, I do not believe I would like them."

"This isn't a frat party. It's a Greek party. And what do you mean you've never been to a party? You're a red-blooded American college student, and you're hot. How have you never been to a party?" She stops her spinning to stare at him in disbelief.

"I... never got invited to any?" Castiel hesitates. "I wasn't exactly popular in high school. I was homeschooled as a child, and we lived out on a farm in the middle of nowhere. My only friends were my siblings. I had acquaintances in high school, but I never got close enough to anyone to be considered party material. I don't think my parents would have liked me going to parties anyway."

"Well, they're not here to stop you now, are they? We're going. Get dressed and grab Neil and Joren and meet in my room in ten." She gets up and quickly leaves the room, Castiel assumes to change out of the brightly colored pajamas shorts she'd been wearing.

Castiel goes to Neil's room, taking his jacket with him and carefully locking his door behind him. He can see Neil and Joren through the open doorway, talking. They both look about to expire from boredom. He knocks on the door frame and is greeted by semi-interested head nods. "I have been instructed to collect you both and meet in Avery's room in less than ten minutes. We are going to a Greek party, which I have been assured is not the same thing as a fraternity party," he informs them, going in and making himself comfortable on the bed next to Joren.

"We're going to a party? Thank God, I'm so bored," Neil says with a sigh of relief. "Will there be hot chicks there?"

"I have no idea. Avery did not specify."

"You didn't ask?" Neil looks incredulous, as though Castiel has neglected to ask God what the purpose of life is.

"Castiel is a homosexual," Joren offers, mouth fumbling around the word. He had only learned the English word for it when Cas came out to him.

"Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot. You gonna invite that guy from your German class to come with us?" Neil asks, standing from his desk and going to his closet to change his shirt.

"No, I don't think so. We have only been on two dates."

"Dude, in college that's like being married."

Castiel blinks at him, slightly alarmed. Roderic does not think they are exclusive, does he? He had been planning on waiting to inform him of the situation with Dean until they had grown more comfortable with each other, if that ever happened. Their dates had been nice, but he is trying to maintain the emotional distance he has promised Dean. "You don't think he thinks we are a couple, do you?"

"Do you want him to?" Joren asks, looking curious.

"No, absolutely not."

"Ooh ho ho, I get it. He just a booty call for you, Cas?"

"I... I don't think I understand that term."

"Booty call?" Joren seconds his confusion.

"Gees, sometimes you're as bad as each other. Booty calls are people you call to have sex with when you want, but don't, like, _date_ date."

"But Roderic and I have gone on two dates together."

"So, you haven't hooked up yet?"

"No? We've kissed, but nothing more. I am saving myself."

"Dude, when you said you were religious, I didn't think you meant you were a monk. Saving yourself? Really? What for? You're a dude. It's not like you're gonna get pregnant."

Castiel sighs, shaking his head. "While I am religious and do believe in the teachings of the Church, I have not taken a vow of chastity. I am merely waiting for a... particular person." He hasn't told Neil or Joren about Dean yet, and isn't sure he wants them to know about him.

"You're not holding off for your soul mate or something, are you?"

Castiel smiles vaguely. "Not exactly, no, though he is very important to me."

Neil pauses in tying his shoes. "Wait, are you talking about, like, a real person you already know?"

"Are you fuckers ready, or what? I think there's a rule that the girl of the group shouldn't be ready before the guys. Jesus," Avery exclaims as she walks through the open door. She has changed from her sweats into a violently pink dress that looks like it's made out of plastic and is so short Castiel thinks he might be able to see her bottom when she turns around. Thankfully, she is wearing a leopard print coat over the dress that reaches to her knees so that he will not have to find out where the dress reaches until she takes it off.

Castiel takes his eyes off her to glance at Neil, whose mouth is agape as he stares at her. Joren appears to be similarly affected. Castiel rolls his eyes and stands, pulling his jacket on. "Yes, let's go." Neil and Joren follow them out, Neil pausing to lock his door. They ask questions of Avery as they make their way to the elevator and then outside to the bus stop. Neil thankfully is too distracted by Avery and her tight, tiny dress to remember to ask Castiel about the particular someone he is holding his virginity for.

When the bus arrives, Joren takes the seat next to Castiel and begins a running commentary of Neil's behavior around Avery and her tiny dress that persists through a brief bus ride and a half-hour jaunt on the El and has Castiel holding back his laughter every few minutes. Thankfully, the commentary is in French, and neither Avery nor Neil can understand a word of it. Both are too distracted with each other to care, anyway.

Avery takes charge when they finally hit the streets again an hour later, leading them to an apartment building that is only distinguished from its neighbors by the pulsing music emitting from the windows. Castiel is apprehensive, but he has already come so far and is definitely not comfortable with the idea of taking public transit back by himself. Joren urges him up the front steps of the apartment ahead of him, giving him no choice but to move forward. There is a guy at the door selling red plastic cups for $5. He says they can drink as much as they want, but if they lose their cups, they have to buy another. Castiel doesn't intend to drink very much.

"Στην υγειά μας!" someone shouts from within a cluster of people stood on the other side of the large sitting room, and everyone else shouts back happily, holding up their drinks.

Castiel turns to Avery, intrigued and a little excited. "When you said this was a Greek party, what did you mean?" he asks, leaning over her shoulder. She's lost the coat and is already the center of attention to a group of young men.

She laughs and points to a Greek flag hanging behind the table set up for a DJ. "I thought you would like it. Here, meet Greg. Greg, this is Cas. He's a language nerd. I bet he could tell you the history of the Greek language in the United States and look extra hot doing it," Avery says with a wink, pulling a broad-shouldered man over by the sleeve of his shirt. The man is definitely Greek, with dark eyes, and dark, curly hair, and olive skin. He smiles down at Castiel, and Castiel's heart does a little flutter.

"Σας πάρτε μια μπύρα," Greg says, seeing that Castiel's cup is empty. He puts a loose arm around Castiel's shoulders and directs him to the kitchen where a keg sits with more people surrounding it. Joren is already there, getting his own beer, and he doesn't even blink an eye at seeing Castiel with a stranger's arm around him. He just switches cups with Cas and fills his own up.

"You found a friend already, gelukwensen! I am Joren. Who are you?" he asks, holding a hand out to shake Greg's. Greg introduces himself, and they exchange stories of how they met Avery while Castiel takes his first drink of beer. He has to fight very hard not to spit it out as soon as it reaches his lips. It is nothing like the dry wine he's had at church. It's bitter and entirely horrible, and he has no idea why anyone in their right mind would choose to drink it. Joren laughs at the expression on his face.

"It is not the best quality, but it will get you drunk, friend." Joren pats Castiel's shoulder and holds his cup up in a show of cheer. Castiel forces another mouthful down, just as awful as the first, but the encouraging look on Joren's face spurs him on.

"Not a fan of beer?" Greg asks, close enough to Castiel's ear to make him shiver.

"I've never had it before. It is not... preferable." Castiel explains.

"I'd offer you something else, but I don't think Mike has anything."

"I will endure. Can I assume that everyone here knows Greek?" he asks, trying to ignore the taste of sour juice in his mouth in favor of enjoying himself.

"Oh no, not everyone. We're all just from Greece, or our families are." He explains about his parents coming from Crete and growing up going to Greek school, and the conversation floats off from there to other topics. Before Castiel knows it, he's settled on a couch, all but in Greg's lap, and he cannot stop giggling. He's lost track of how many beers he's drunk, and Greg's hand is up the back of his shirt, his fingertips tingling along Cas' skin, and this party thing is a brilliant idea. He wants to go to parties every night.

He's just wrapped his fingers around Greg's neck with the intention of pulling him in for a kiss when there's a loud shout, and people start scrambling towards the back door. Castiel has no idea what's going on, but someone grabs his hand and pulls him along in the crowd. Someone behind him is shouting 'cops!', and suddenly he's stumbling down a rickety flight of wooden steps into an alley, and the person pulling him is wearing Avery's leopard coat. Castiel shakes some of the slush from his brain long enough to note that it is Avery pulling him.

They manage to break out of the alley and make a run for it in the opposite direction of the flashing police lights. Three blocks away, Avery pulls him to a stop in the archway of a closed thrift store and doubles over to catch her breath. Joren huddles in with them. Castiel hadn't even realized he'd been following them. "Shit, that was close. I'll lose my scholarship if I get caught drinking underage; you both probably will, too. Where's Neil?" she asks, peering around the doorway to look down the street.

"I saw him running the other direction. We might be able to catch him if we head for the subway now," Joren says, looking down the street as well.

"Okay, sounds good. Let's go." She steps back onto the sidewalk, a little more composed and neat after a coat and hair check in the closed shop window. She leads them on towards the subway stop, Castiel leaning on Joren's arm in an attempt to minimize his swaying footsteps as much as possible. The beer goggles in health class in no way prepared him for how disorienting being drunk truly is.

"Doing okay there, Cas?" Avery asks, smiling back at him.

He frowns at her. "I feel dizzy," is all he manages. Avery laughs and shakes her head at him. Thankfully, they find Neil standing with a few other U of C students waiting on the train platform, buzzing over how exciting it was to have been at a party that actually got busted by the cops. It only occurs to Castiel as they get on the train after a five-minute wait that he has no idea where Greg went. He takes a seat next to Joren and cuddles into his side, an action Joren thankfully doesn't protest, and listens to Neil tell them about making out with a Greek girl from UIC, who had given him her number. For a while, he dozes.

An hour of public transit to sober up later, Castiel is still drunk. He knows this. His friends know this. The security guard at the entrance to the dorms knows this. He would care, but somehow he is well past that stage. Instead, he feels floaty and happy and a little dizzy and good god is he horny. He should just call Dean, and let Dean talk him to orgasm, but he doesn't want to have to imagine someone else's hands on him. He wants to feel them. So instead of going to his room to jack off with Dean's voice in his ear, he says goodnight to his friends at the elevator and goes down the hall to the Vincent House dorms.

Roderic looks sleepy, but pleased to see Castiel when he opens the door. Cas smiles drunkenly back and sways into Roderic's personal space. "Hi. You have very nice lips," he says, pulling Roderic down by his t-shirt and kissing him. Roderic makes a muffled sound of surprise, but quickly has his arms around Castiel and is kissing him back. Castiel sort of loses track of what's going on for a while except for _nice_ and _warm_ and _pleasant_ , and when he's next aware, they're laying on Roderic's bed with their shirts off, and Castiel is straddling Roderic's hips, grinding down on his erection and moaning. Roderic takes ahold of his hips to help him along, nipping and licking at Cas' neck.

"You're so bloody gorgeous, you know that?" Roderic whispers into his ear, taking his earlobe between his teeth and gently tugging. Castiel moans, grinding his hips down harder. All he can think about is that Dean had been right. Biting does feel good. His only regret is that it was not Dean here below him, nipping at him and groaning those deep, desperate growls of his.He tries to push thoughts of Dean away, but they're ever-present. Dean would grip him tighter. Dean would know just where to kiss him. Dean would have had his pants off by now. Dean would call him baby and whisper dirty things in his ear.

He growls and kisses Roderic hard, gnashing their teeth together and working his hips faster, trying to lose himself in the friction. Soon he's coming into his own boxers, but the orgasm isn't particularly spectacular, and he's not entirely certain he didn't call out Dean's name when he came. Roderic doesn't appear to have noticed, though, because he's come, too, and he's panting underneath Castiel with this look of wonder in his eyes. "That was brilliant," he rasps, grinning up at Castiel. He pulls Cas down into another kiss, more tender and softer than before.

Castiel kisses back, dizzy and faintly nauseous. He settles into Roderic's side, too tired to bother with the mess drying in his pants. Roderic pets his hair and kisses his forehead, and it's nice. The comfort of it is enough to lull him to sleep, and he doesn't think about what the morning will bring.

-

There is an earthquake happening. No, he lives in Chicago; there are no fault lines here. He's being shaken by a hand on his shoulder. There is a loud robotic sound—his phone, it's ringing. He opens his eyes and immediately regrets the decision. He lets out a loud groan and curls in on himself. "Oh no, I'm dying," he moans, writhing a bit. Someone chuckles and lips are pressed to his cheek.

"You aren't dying, love, you've a phone call. You best pick it up if you don't want him to hang up." The phone is pressed into his hand and another kiss is pressed to his temple before Roderic steps away from him. He fumbles with the phone, pressing OK and holding it up to his ear.

"Hello?" he croaks.

" _Cas? What's up? You sound like shit._ "

Castiel groans, rolling over so that he can shield his eyes from the light with the blanket. "I believe I am hungover. I feel like I'm going to die."

He can hear Dean's laughter on the other end, loud and piercing. It feels a little like knives are being shoved into his temples. He moans and curls into a tighter ball. " _Were you drinking last night? Wow, my little puritan is all grown up. Didn't think you had it in you, Cas._ "

"It was Avery's idea. We went to a party on the North Side. There were lots of Greek people there," he explains.

" _Wow, first party and it's a fraternity party, huh? Good job._ "

"No, it was... the people were from Greece. Sort of. My brain isn't working well enough to explain. The um... the police came and broke it up. Avery made me run to avoid them. It was interesting."

" _Woah, underage drinking at a party_ and _almost arrested? This just gets better and better. Wish I'd been there._ "

"I wish you'd been there, too. I miss you," Castiel confesses, whispering in the hopes that Roderic won't hear him. His stomach plummets at the thought of Roderic, and he's up and racing out of the dorm room in search of the nearest bathroom.

He returns to the room a few minutes later, feeling slightly more normal and ready to find his shirt and go back to his room to shower, but Roderic is eying the phone left in the pile of blankets in a displeased way. Castiel looks down at himself in only his soiled jeans and feels dirty and sinful. He is disgusted with himself. He never should have gone to Roderic's room last night. What was he doing? This was insane. How could he let Roderic believe they were headed for a relationship, serious or not, when his heart has always belonged to Dean? He walks to the bed and picks the phone up. "I apologize, Dean. I found myself suddenly in need of a toilet. Would you mind if I called you back in a little while?"

" _Sure, Cas. I'll be around. Grab a greasy breakfast and some aspirin and take a nap. You'll feel better, I promise._ "

"Thank you, Dean. I will try to take your advice." He hangs up and tucks the phone into his pocket. He spots his t-shirt folded on the desk next to Roderic's computer, where he had apparently been typing before Castiel's phone started ringing. He puts the shirt on quickly and takes a deep breath, holding onto the desk to keep himself steady as he makes eye contact with Roderic. "I apologize for assaulting you last night. It was presumptuous of me to assume we were at a level in our relationship where that sort of intimacy would be welcome."

Roderic smiles, and it almost reaches his eyes. "Hey, a gorgeous man comes to my door to molest me, I'm not turning him away. I didn't mind at all. In fact, it was... nice." His voice grows warm at the word, and his smile turns hopeful.

"Yes, what I remember of it was nice, I agree. Which is why I cannot continue to... see you, Roderic. I'm sorry. I like you quite a bit, but I... the man I was just on the phone with?" Roderic looks down, his smile slumping. "I am in love with him. I should have explained the situation before I agreed to go to coffee with you, but I didn't know how. He travels the country with his family and rarely stays in one place for long, which makes a relationship difficult. We have agreed to maintain an open relationship, wherein we may date, and even sleep with, anyone we choose as long as we do not become emotionally entangled with anyone but each other. I..." Castiel falters, unsure how to phrase his thought. "I had thought I could maintain such a relationship, but I cannot. I like you a great deal, and were the situation different I would very much like to start a serious relationship with you, but as it is, there will always be Dean."

Roderic's face has withered into a mixture of disappointment and rejection that turns Castiel's stomach more than the hangover already has. He feels the need to apologize again, but can't find the words. "Are you sure?" Roderic asks, quiet and filled with pain.

"Yes, I'm very sorry. Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight. I hope you will not harbor any ill-will towards me. I did not mean you harm."

"Right, yes, of course. I supposed I was silly to think... Nevermind, sorry. Would you mind terribly if I asked to be left alone now?"

"Oh, um, no. Sorry, again. I'll just..." He backs awkwardly from the room and shuts the door behind him. Thankfully, no one stops him in the hall when he reaches his own room a minute later. He gathers his shower things and a change of clothes and makes his way to the showers. The only other guy in the bathroom is someone he hasn't met yet, and he is permitted to shower in peace.

-

This is Castiel's fifth batch of cookies in less than a week. Perhaps it would be excessive, except that the guys have already eaten through the previous four in the same amount of time. And besides, baking soothes the lonely places in him and makes him think of home.

Elbows-deep in the oven in the student kitchens is where Avery finds him, and she is not impressed. "That Freshman Fifteen is going to rear its ugly head if you don't stop baking soon, Cas. What's going on?"

"Nothing is 'going on'. I simply enjoy baking," Castiel replies, probably a bit gruffly.

"Sweetie, you've made like ten batches of cookies in the last week. Is this because of the break-up with Roderic? I thought you wanted it. I'm sure he'd take you back if you asked. Bring him some cookies wearing nothing but an apron, and I would be shocked if he turned you away."

Castiel frowns, flicking a bit of dough at her. "I have no interest in rekindling my situation with Roderic. I..." He sighs. He recognizes that he is pouting down at the bowl of cookie dough, but he can hardly prevent himself from doing so in this mood. "I miss Dean. I talk to him every day, but I want to... to touch him, look him in the eye, kiss him. He keeps saying he's trying to get here, and I know he's telling me the truth, but it's just... not enough? I need more than his voice, if that makes sense."

Avery steals the bowl from him and starts licking the dough-covered spoon. "How far do you guys go when you do the phone sex thing?"

Castiel's feels his entire face heat into a blush, and he quickly makes himself busy scooping out dollops of dough onto the greased cookie sheet he already prepared. "I don't see how that is pertinent."

He can feel Avery's unrelenting gaze on him. She waits until he has filled two cookie sheets before pulling the bowl away from him and returning to licking the spoon, despite his scowl. "I think I know what you need. Get these cookies baked, and then we're going on a little trip."

"Where are we going?" Castiel puts the cookies in the oven and sets the timer, while Avery pops up onto the counter nearby and eats a big spoonful of chocolate chip-covered dough.

"It's a surprise. Let's get back to Dean. Is he hot?"

"He's... yes, he's distracting to look at. He's very tall, and broad-shouldered, and he has these intense green eyes that almost glow when he's happy. And he has this leather jacket that's a little too big for him that he wears all the time. It's sexy. And of course, you've heard his voice."

Avery nods with a dreamy look. "Yeah, he definitely made me want to lose my underwear. I can see why you're so frustrated."

Castiel does not know what to say, so he stays quiet. Avery kicks her feet off the counters and smirks at him over her spoon. Twenty minutes later, they're on the bus, headed for the Red Line, and Castiel still has no idea where they're going. "Should I be nervous?" he asks.

"Probably. You'll like it, though, don't worry." She pats his knee, and promptly changes the subject, asking him how his family is doing. It puts him at ease to talk about his siblings.

By the time they are re-emerging from the subway, Castiel has nearly forgotten that he has no idea where they are going. A ten-minute walk later, they're standing in front of a store called 'Early to Bed'. "What sort of store is this?" Castiel asks, confused. _Are we buying mattress pads?_ Avery doesn't say anything, just steers him inside. Being inside doesn't help his confusion. There are no beds, but there are a lot of plastic-looking penises. He immediately starts to blush and tries to walk back out. "No, no, sweetie, you're staying. At any given moment, your boyfriend is 400 - 1000 miles away from you. You need something to take the edge off besides your own hand."

"Avery, I don't understand... This seems extremely inappropriate...."

"You have phone sex with your long-distance boyfriend that's so loud I can hear it through a wall. I'm no Catholic, but I'm pretty sure getting a dildo isn't much higher on the sin scale."

"What's a dildo?"

Avery looks to the woman standing at the cash register, watching them with amusement. She has pink hair and a bright smile when Castiel turns to look at her. "Can I help you find anything?" she asks in a friendly, open way that puts Castiel a little more at ease.

"I don't know..." He looks uncertainly at Avery, who flashes the woman her own friendly smile and drags him over to the counter.

"Cas here is new to..." She turns to give Castiel a considering glance. "Everything, pretty much, and he comes from a religious background, so he's a little shy."

"That's understandable. We try to be as open and non-judgmental here as possible. Do you know what you might be looking for today?" the woman asks, turning to Castiel.

"The door? I apologize; I don't know why my friend thought it was a good idea to bring me here, but I'm fine really."

"You're sexually frustrated, Cas. You baked like ten batches of cookies this week. You need to take the edge off before you get blue balls."

"Avery! I have no idea what that even is, but I can assure you my testicles are not an unnatural color—"

"Not what I meant, Cas. You need to get off, and your hand clearly isn't doing it for you anymore. I brought you here to find something that will, or at least something that can hold you off until Dean finally gets his ass here to help you."

"I don't see how buying a plastic phallus is going to help that. I have one of my own, you realize."

The shop owner is smiling calmly at him, but Avery just stares at him in disbelief. She turns to the other woman, her expression a clear prayer for help. "We have several products available that can help you to entertain yourself. If you are interested in anal stimulation, we have several vibrators that attach to you finger for added pleasure when fingering yourself, as well as a variety of dildos and vibrators for deeper penetration. If anal isn't your thing, we also have sleeves and vibrating rings to stimulate your penis. Would you like me to show you?"

"I...uh... I don't..." Castiel looks to Avery, torn between wanting to be polite and trying not to die of embarrassment.

"Yes, please," Avery answers for him, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Great, this way." She moves out from behind the counter and takes them to a long shelf of plastic phalluses. She picks up one that looks to be about the same size as Castiel's own. "This is a dildo. This particular one is made of silicone, but they can be made of a variety of materials." She goes on to explain the various types and how Castiel might use them to pleasure himself. After a few minutes, his interest in the academic overcomes his embarrassment, and he soon finds himself enjoying talking to the shop owner. She knows more about sexual stimulants than Castiel would have thought possible. He leaves the store with a small anal plug and a bottle of water-based lubricant and instructions on how to use both, as well as a guide to gay sex that makes him blush and causes Avery to go into a giggling fit that doesn't end for a full minute.

Later that night, he carefully lays out a towel on his bed and sets out both the plug and the lubricant. He calls Dean as he lays down on the towel. It feels awkward, but he is able to ignore his discomfort as soon as Dean picks up.

" _How's my favorite future librarian doing?_ " Dean greets him, the smile evident in his tone. There's loud music in the background and the sound of voices. Dean must not be at the motel, then. Castiel smiles to himself.

"I made an interesting purchase with Avery today that I thought you might like to share with me."

" _Oh yeah, what's that?_ "

"It is a toy."

" _A toy, huh? What kind?_ " Dean's voice deepens and Castiel can hear him walking somewhere.

"It is an anal plug, I believe it is called?"

Dean doesn't answer for a minute, caught up in what sounds like a coughing fit. " _Shit, Cas, are you serious?_ " He finally manages.

"Yes? I haven't used it yet, but I've... cleaned myself, and I am laying naked in bed with it."

There is more coughing and possibly choking, and when Dean responds finally, he sounds hoarse. " _You want to use it right now, while I'm talking to you? That's... really fucking hot, Cas. I'm at a bar, though. Give me a minute to get in a stall or something. Fuck._ " There's further sounds of movement. Castiel can picture Dean trying to find an empty bathroom stall, hopefully with an erection visible through his jeans, surrounded by surly bikers. He squirms on the towel, grinning. " _Okay, I'm clear. So, you're naked?"_

"Yes, Dean."

" _What's the toy look like?_ "

Castiel picks the plug up and rotates it in his hand, examining it. "It is blue. It has a wide, flat base that I understand is meant to be used to manipulate the toy once it is inside. The toy itself is an inch and a half in diameter, about the length of my hand span, and tapers off to a tip at the end."

" _And you're supposed to put it in your..."_

"My anus, yes. I've been assured that it is quite pleasant when the user is properly prepared."

" _And how do you... prepare yourself?_ "

"I used my fingers to clean myself in the shower. It was... interesting. I feel a bit... stretched, I suppose."

" _And it wasn't, you know, painful?_ "

"No. It burned a bit, but I only used one finger."

" _Let's start there, then. I uh, don't know much about butt stuff, but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to stretch yourself with some lube first. You got that, right?_ "

"Yes, I have it right here. Could you please not refer to anal sex as 'butt stuff'? It's very off-putting."

Dean chuckles. " _Yeah, I can do that. Okay, uh... I guess start by putting some of the lube on your fingers?_ "

"Okay." Castiel fumbles to do so, setting the phone down next to his ear while he gets the cap open and dribbles some of the lubricant on his fingers. "Done."

" _Okay, I think you should start by rubbing your dick. Is it hard yet? If it isn't, stroke it until it is._ "

Castiel has become accustomed to Dean using the word 'dick' in the several months since he moved to school, but today is the first time that it hasn't made him blush. Instead, he wraps his hand around his half-hard penis and starts stroking the way he imagines Dean would. He moans at the contact, arching his back slightly off the bed and calling Dean's name out softly.

" _Sounds like you like that, baby. Why don't you try to move your fingers down to that nice clean hole for me, okay?_ "

"What should I do to it?"

" _Rub against it, tell me what feels good._ "

Castiel does, moaning a little louder at the surprising sensation of pleasure. He had felt too exposed in the shower to truly enjoy the cleaning, but now the pressure feels wonderful. "Dean, it feels so good when I press against it. Can I put a finger in, please?"

" _Oh course, baby, do what you want to do._ "

Cas pushes one fingertip into himself, stroking the tight muscle he can feel. He puts more pressure on the muscle and it gives, swallowing his finger up to the second knuckle. It tingles pleasantly and makes him moan. He pushes further inside until the webbing of his hand prevents him going any deeper. "I have my finger all the way inside, Dean. It feels amazing."

" _Yeah? Why don't you try sliding it in and out a little?_ "

Castiel does and cries out when he accidentally hits something that sparks a bolt of pleasure down his spine. " _What was that, baby?_ "

"I don't know, but it felt amazing. I'm going to put in another finger." He does, hearing Dean's harsh breathing in his ear as he thrusts his index and middle fingers in and out of his anus. His toes curl at the pleasure of it.

" _Are you nice and loose, baby? You sound so hot right now. I'd give anything to be there watching you fuck yourself on your fingers._ "

"Dean, oh...oh God... I think I might..."

" _Don't you fucking come until you've at least tried the plug thing. I want to hear the noises you make when you put it in_."

"Dean... yes, okay, I think I'm ready to try. _"_ He pulls his fingers from his body, fumbling for more lube to pour on the plug, coating it thoroughly. The first attempt to push it inside goes nowhere. His hole stubbornly pushes the narrow tip out before even a centimeter makes it in. A little more coaxing and the muscles finally give way. The first feeling of the toy fully inside him causes his toes to curl in pleasure.

" _Fuck, you sound so hot right now. You get it in?_ "

"Yes, Dean. I feel so full."

" _Good, when you're ready, I want you to start fucking yourself on it. Try to hit that thing that made you scream before, okay?_ " Castiel nods even though Dean can't see him and begins to thrust the toy in and out. He all but screams when it hits whatever causes rockets of pleasure up his spine and begins trying to aim the toy there. He succeeds about half the time, and it isn't long before he's shooting come all over his stomach, all but sobbing Dean's name into the phone, body arched off the bed before collapsing into a trembling mess.

As he comes down, he hears Dean's own muffled cry of orgasm and smiles to himself. He lifts up off the towel and uses it to clean his hands and hole, as well as the toy. He will have to wet a washcloth with soapy water in the bathroom to clean it fully, but a wipe-down will do for now.

" _Fuck, Cas, that was the hottest thing I've ever heard._ "

"I enjoyed it as well." He yawns loudly, surprising himself with his sudden exhaustion.

" _You tired, buddy?_ "

"I believe I am. Would you mind if I saved the asking how your day went until tomorrow?"

Dean laughs. " _Gonna fuck and run, then? Yeah, that's fine, as long as you promise to tell me how you and Avery ended up some place that sells sex toys tomorrow._ "

"Yes, I can do that. Goodnight, Dean."

 _"Night, Cas_." Castiel hands up the phone with a feeling of satisfaction, and goes about cleaning up and preparing for bed with a smile. Avery had been correct. A little alternative stimulation had been an excellent release of his sexual frustration. He can't wait to do it again tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if Early to Bed existed when Cas went to school in 1999, but it definitely did five years later in 2004 when I first visited, and I'm fairly certain it wasn't a new-new store then.


	5. Campus Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally visits Castiel at school, but his short reprieve from hunting has consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you to my beta, bellasauraus, for helping me with this chapter.

Dean stops the pretty blonde walking past him with a quiet, “Excuse me.”

She stops, hands still buried in her messenger back, looks irritated until she turns and sees his face. A flirtatious smile breaks out, and she steps up closer. “Hi.”

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but would you happen to know where Burton-Judson Courts is?” he asks, leaning into her and dialing up the charm.

She gives him a once-over that looks more than pleased with what she’s seeing. “That’s where I live. I could walk you there. It’s only a few blocks.” She strokes a finger down the open lapel of his shirt and steps right into his personal space. “And then maybe I could show you my dorm room, too?”

If he hadn’t come here for a different reason and didn’t know exactly who this girl was, he would probably be interested in taking her up on that offer. “You know, I would, believe me I would love to see your dorm room, sweetheart,” his eyes sweep down her slim body before flicking back up to her eyes, “but I’m kind of meeting someone. Could you just point me in the right direction, please?”

She frowns and steps back, looking down the street. “Sure, yeah, turn right at the end of the block and it’s the third block down from there.”

He follows her gaze and nods, smiling wider. “Thanks, Avery. See you around.” He circles around to the driver’s side and opens his door, grinning at her confused expression.

“How did you…” Her eyes go huge and she rushes to the passenger side and puts her hands on the hood as if it will stop him getting in. “Wait, are you… are you Dean?” She says his name with a little bit of awe. For a second he thinks about her saying it that way while naked and underneath him, but he blinks that thought away and winks.

“Like I said, I’ll see you around.” He slides into the car and turns her on, waiting for Avery to step back before pulling off the street and circling the block. He could have walked, but that would ruin the surprise, so he parks in front of the building Avery had indicated, lucking out with a spot just big enough for him almost directly in front of the entry. He gets out and leans against the passenger side door to wait, checking his watch. If he’s coming directly from class, he should be here any minute. Dean just hopes Avery hasn’t already called to let him know Dean’s here. He watches the students walking past as they wait, more than a few of them watching him back. A group of giggling girls walks past checking him out, and he tips his head to them, but doesn’t give them more attention than that.

He looks down the street and grins, seeing the scruffy black head he’s been waiting to see for over a year. Cas is looking down at his phone, frowning in confusion, and almost walks right past him, but he looks up just in time and freezes in the middle of the sidewalk. “Dean?”

“Hey Cas,” Dean greets him, stretching his arm over the hood of the Impala to pat her shiny black surface. “Check out my baby; isn’t she sweet?”

Cas doesn’t even seem to see the car. His eyes are focused razor-sharp on Dean, taking every detail of him in. Dean can’t help looking back. Cas is still shorter than Dean by half a head, but he looks less juvenile now, his features having sharpened a little. And there’s stubble on his jaw. His lips are still as pink as ever, and Dean has to resist the urge to pull him in by his ridiculous argyle sweater and kiss him senseless. Cas, apparently, doesn’t have these qualms. One second Dean’s eying the band logo peeking out of the cardigan, the next Cas is right up in his personal space and kissing him like he needs it more than breathing. Dean fumbles back against the car and grabs onto his waist and kisses back, groaning as Cas bites his bottom lip and licks his way into his mouth. Cas’ fingers dig into his hair, pulling his head down so he doesn’t have to tiptoe up to reach him, and Dean’s fingers clench in the back of his sweater.

They stand there, kissing, for what feels like forever before Cas finally lets his mouth go and smiles up at him. “Hello,” he breathes.

Dean grins back, squeezing his waist. “Hello yourself.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I finally got the weekend off, and I came straight here as soon as I could.”

Cas’ fingers trail down his neck to play with the collar of his shirt. “I’ve missed you as well.”

Dean watches Cas play with the buttons on his shirt, content to have him here, standing between his legs with the Impala at their back. Cas looks up at him again, smiling like he can’t stop himself. It’s a big contrast from his usual stoicism, and Dean would find it weird if it didn’t light Cas’ face up so bright Dean can’t physically look away from him. Cas cocks his head to the side, brows knitting even though he’s still grinning. “If you’re here, does that mean you...”

Dean grins, pulling the piece of paper out of his back pocket and flashing it to Cas. “Yep, read ‘em and weep. That shit took time, but you were right. It was worth it.”

Cas takes the paper from him and examines it with a satisfied smile. “I knew you were smart enough to do this. Thank you, Dean.” He’s still smiling as he looks up at Dean, and Dean’s heart stutters in his chest. “Are you staying, then?” Cas asks in a soft, husky voice. He folds the certificate back up and tucks it into Dean’s breast pocket for him.

“Yeah, if that’s okay. Not for too long, though. I can’t leave Dad and Sammy alone together for more than a few days without them killing each other.”

“I don’t have a lot of space, but you don’t mind sleeping on the floor for a night or two, right? Come on, get your bag, and I’ll show you my room.” He steps back, re-adjusting his bag on his shoulder. Dean gets his duffel out of the trunk, careful not to let Cas see the false bottom. As much as he hates lying to Cas, he’s not ready to tell him about hunting yet. He turns to Cas and follows him into the building, eyes glued to his pink-trousered ass. He has absolutely no intention of sleeping on the floor.

“I met your friend Avery,” he says as they walk up two flights of stairs.

“Yes, I was reading a very confusing text message from her about meeting my ‘hot piece of ass’ when I saw you. I didn’t know what she was talking about.”

Dean doesn’t ask what a text message is. “I saw her on the street and asked her for directions to the building.” He smirks, knowing this is going to piss Cas off. “She hit on me.”

Cas’ fingers clench on the banister before he relaxes. “She didn’t know who you were. I can’t say that she wouldn’t try again even knowing. You turned her down, I take it?”

“Of course I did. She might be a juicy steak, but you’re a bacon-wrapped cheeseburger, sweetheart. There’s no contest.”

Cas stops on the stairs and turns a glare on Dean. “Do not call me sweetheart.”

“Why not? I call everyone sweetheart,” Dean asks in confusion. Standing a step above him, Cas is at eye-level with Dean and practically pressed into his chest with how narrow the steps are.

“Exactly. It loses any meaning it might have had as an endearment.”

“Can I call you baby, then? I only call the Impala that, and you know how much she means to me.”

Cas studies him for a moment and nods. “That would be acceptable.”

“Awesome.” Cas is leaning in to kiss him when a feminine voice calls to him from above.

“I guess you found him, then. Or he found you?” They look up to see Avery hopping down the stairs, smiling brightly.

“Yes, Dean was waiting for me in front of the building. I would introduce you, but it appears you’ve met.”

“Not formally. Hi there, I’m Avery Wells.” She holds out her hand and Dean shakes it.

“Dean Winchester.”

She looks him over again, smirking. “Yes, I know. Cas has told me a lot about you, and I have to say, he did not give your hotness enough credit. His voice might have gotten all low and gravely when he talked about you, but I was not prepared for it. At all.” Cas’ fingers clench on his shirt—and Dean hadn’t even noticed Cas grabbing onto it—when she steps onto his step and right into his personal space, giving him a heated once-over. “Are you really sure you don’t want to see my room?” There’s a sparkle of amusement in her eyes that makes Dean think she might be teasing.

“Again, as tempting as that sounds, Cas was just about to touch me in my no-no place, so if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go up to his room and do that. Right, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean. We’ll talk to you later, Avery.” Cas pulls Dean up the rest of the staircase by his lapel and brings him to a thick oak door down the hall, letting him go long enough to unlock it before pulling him inside and kissing him dizzy. Dean drops the duffel just inside the door and kicks it closed with his foot. Within minutes they’re sprawled out on the bed, Dean’s hips nestled between Cas’ spread thighs, kissing each other breathless.

They make out until late afternoon, ignoring three knocks to Cas’ door and four phone calls to his cell. By the time Cas finally lets him go, it’s past five and they’re both starving.

“I saw a couple cool bars around the neighborhood while I was looking for the dorm. Wanna go get a drink?”

Cas smiles up at him, chin resting on his breastbone, his stubble scratching Dean’s skin pleasantly. “I’d love to, but they’re strict about selling alcohol to minors here. There’s a diner on State that sells amazing burgers. We could get dinner.”

Dean runs his fingers through Cas’ hair and smiles. “Use your fake id, dude. No one will question it.”

“I don’t have a fake id.”

Dean sits up as far as he can with Cas laying on his chest. “What do you mean; you don’t have a fake id? You’re in college, for fuck’s sake. Isn’t that like… a requirement?”

“Apparently not, since I got in.”

“Well, we’ll make you one. I have a camera in the trunk we can use to take a picture. We’ll have to go to Walgreens to get it developed, but I should have the rest of what I need in the car.”

“You can forge ids? But that’s illegal.”

“Dude, I can do a lot of things you don’t want to know about. Forging shit’s just the tip of the iceberg.” He gently pushes Cas off him with a quick kiss and reaches for his shirt, which somehow ended up on the floor.

“I do not feel comfortable forging an id.”

“Come on, Cas. Live a little. Don’t you want to get me drunk and have your wicked way with me?” He waggles his eyebrows, which only earns him an eye roll and a light punch in the chest as Cas gets up, too, and picks his t-shirt up from the end of the bed.

“I don’t have to get you drunk to have my way with you.”

“No, but doesn’t it sound fun anyway?”

Cas admits that it sort of does, and they climb into the Impala to find the closest Walgreens. An hour later, Cas has a new id photo and Dean’s brought his forging equipment to Cas’ room. He’s hunched over Cas’ desk with a pair of tweezers and one of the pictures when someone knocks on the door. Cas answers and lets Avery and two guys in, introducing them to Dean as Joren and Neil. Avery is on Dean like a moth to flame as soon as she gets in the room, despite the visible hickey on Dean’s neck that hadn’t been there three hours ago and the very rumpled state of both the bed and Castiel. He ignores her in favor of finishing Castiel’s id. He wants a beer, and he wants Cas sitting next to him when he finally gets it. Besides, he knows she’s only teasing him, and maybe Cas a little, too.

The guys are impressed with his forging skills, offering to pay him for ids of their own to replace the shitty ones they have now that only work in dark alley clubs, and then only half the time. Avery already has a good one, which doesn’t surprise Dean in the least. The three of them end up coming with Dean and Cas to the bar the guys have successfully used their ids in before, and soon Dean is sitting at a high table with Cas next to him and a beer in his hand. Avery turns out to be hilarious when she isn’t trying to hit on Dean, and he starts to see why Cas likes her so much. He talks to Joren about the Impala—and the weird foreign dude actually knows what he’s talking about—and teaches Cas how to play pool with Neil. Cas is uncomfortably good at pool, even when they get so hammered they’re stumbling back eight blocks to the dorm.

Dean’s had too much to drink, he knows, and he’s all hands when it comes to Cas, which he would care about if Cas wasn’t so damn cute drunk. Besides, Cas is cold despite his three layers and that damn trench coat of his, and burrowing into Dean’s side seems to be his solution to the problem. Or possibly he’s too drunk to walk upright on his own. Dean can’t tell and doesn’t feel like figuring it out. He pulls Cas in close and leans down to kiss his neck, and Cas giggles, pulling away a little. “Stop, tickles… Mmm, Dean…” Cas’ hand travels over Dean’s stomach under his shirt, then down past the waist of his jeans and into his boxers.

Dean yelps, not expecting the reach-around. “Cas!” he shouts, eying Joren walking next to them, oblivious in his own drunken stumbling. Cas just keeps giggling and buries his face in Dean’s shoulder. His fingers curl around Dean’s dick, and pump a few times before Dean has to pry his wrist up and out. “Dude, I have to get you inside, like now.”

“Mmm, I want to get you naked and lick you all over,” Cas says in his ear, a little too loud to really be considered whispering. Dean coughs and has to blink really fast to keep his vision from blurring because he hasn’t even seen Cas without his pants on and now that’s all he can think about.

“Whoa, there, too much info, Cas!” Neil calls from behind them, laughing.

“Fuck off, Neil,” Cas snaps back, glaring at him over Dean’s shoulder.

Finally, they reach the dorm and tumble through the doors. The night clerk eyes them with exasperation, but doesn’t comment as they wander over to the elevator and lumber in in a pile of limbs. Avery is laughing at them so hard she’s bending over, and Neil is protesting loudly, but Cas doesn’t appear to care because he’s pushed Dean up against the elevator wall and is kissing him. Dean slides his hands in the back pockets of Cas’ pants and squeezes his ass, returning the kiss without care for being watched by the others. In a minute, they’re being pushed out of the elevator and somehow make it to the end of the hall to Cas’ door and inside before Cas starts pulling his jacket off and pushing him onto the bed.

Dean helps him, happy to get them both naked as soon as physically possible. Cas straddles him shirtless, sucking on his bottom lip. His fingers clamp onto Dean’s nipples and tug until Dean makes a loud noise he refuses to call a whimper. The pleasure is blinding. Dean feels dizzy as he digs his fingers into Cas’ shoulder blades and pulls him flush, lifting his hips up to rub against Cas. Cas grinds down on him, hard, moaning under his hands. His hips move fast and strong until Dean can’t take it anymore and his vision goes white as he comes all over his and Cas’ stomachs.

Cas grins against his mouth, drags a finger through the cum on his stomach, and brings it to his lips, licking it off with a gleam in his eye. Dean growls and picks him up, flipping him onto his back on the bed and tugging his pants off. Cas leans back, giggling until Dean has him naked. He snatches a handful of Dean’s hair and pulls him up tight, face turning to stone. “I want you to make me come and then clean it up with your tongue.”

A shiver runs down Dean’s spine and he nods, wincing at the extra pull Cas gives his hair. It’s sort of awesome having Cas order him around. He wraps his hand around Cas’ dick and pulls up experimentally. He’s never actually touched another guy’s dick before, but it doesn’t feel as weird as he thought it would. He plays with it, watching as Cas twitches above him and writhes when he does something particularly pleasant. He reaches down with his tongue, curious, and flicks it over the wet head. The pre-cum tastes slimy and a little salty, but it doesn’t stop Dean from licking again, longer this time and it makes Cas whine under him. He takes another lick, then another, until Cas is grabbing on the pillow and crying out loud enough for his neighbor to hear. Dean grins, happy to make Cas happy, and sucks the head into his mouth. The skin is soft and a little squishy in his mouth, and he sort of likes the way it feels sliding over his tongue.

He loses himself in taking Cas to pieces, bobbing his head over Cas’ dick until Cas is a shivering mess. “Fuck, Dean, I’m gonna…” he manages to gasp out just as he explodes in Dean’s mouth. Dean pulls off, watching Cas’ wrecked expression as he comes. Cas is still trembling under his hands as he starts to lick him clean, just as Cas ordered. Eventually, Cas comes back to reality and smiles down at Dean, running fingers through his hair as Dean licks up every last bit of cum on his skin. Dean presses kisses into his throat, up his chin, to his lips. Cas makes a face for a second before kissing him back, wrapping an ankle around his hip.

Dean pulls away first to look down at Cas, pupils still blown with arousal and hair completely crazy. “You’re not gonna make me sleep on the floor now, are you?”

Cas rolls his eyes and pushes Dean’s chest. “No, Dean, I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”

“Awesome. You’re awesome.”

“Am I?” Cas asks, smiling as Dean kisses him again.

“Yeah, baby, you’re totally awesome.” Dean murmurs as he keeps pressing kisses to Cas’ lips. A while later, Dean settles into Cas’ side, head on his shoulder. Cas combs fingers through his hair, turning to kiss his forehead. “Worth the long wait?” Dean asks, brushing fingers down Cas’ side.

“Definitely.”

-

Dean wakes to the obnoxious sound of his phone, muffled in his jacket across the room. He hates that ringtone, but he can’t figure out how to change it, and Sam thinks it’s hilarious, so he won’t help. He ignores it and crowds closer to Cas, tightening his hold on his waist and burying his nose in Cas’ hair. Cas smells like alcohol and sex and apples, and Dean wants to eat him a little bit. He’s not completely sure he isn’t still drunk on Cas’ taste from last night. Cas makes an unhappy noise and shifts backwards, curling into Dean. “Your phone is annoying.”

“Yeah, it is,” Dean grumbles into his shoulder.

“Are you going to answer it?”

“Not if it means I have to get up.” The phone stops only long enough for them to both have started to drift back off before it’s ringing again. Dean curses under his breath and slips out of bed, walking on unsteady legs over to his jacket and rifling through the pockets until he finds the noisy fucker and opens it. “Yeah?”

“ _Why aren’t you answering your phone, boy?_ ”

Dean groans and rubs at his face. The last thing he wants to do is talk to his dad at… fuck, 6:12AM while he’s hung over and naked in Cas’ dorm room. “I was sleeping.”

“ _Well, you’re awake now, and I need you here. I found a case and I can’t take Sam with me._ ”

“We’ve been working for three months without a break. You said you’d give me a week,” he complains, sitting heavily on the bed. Cas’ hand presses into his lower back as he shifts closer in bed.

“ _A skinwalker’s killing people in Minnesota. You want me to let them die while you play house with some kid in Chicago?_ ”

Dean knuckles at his eye and sighs. “I didn’t tell you where I was going, Dad.”

“ _I know you, kid. No way you weren’t going to see that boyfriend of yours. Don’t think we won’t be talking about this when I’m done with the skinwalker._ ”

“Cas isn’t my… fine, yeah. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hangs up and drops the phone to the carpet to stare at it for several minutes. Cas strokes his back.

“I take it you have to leave?”

“Yeah, Dad’s got a job, and he needs me to take care of Sammy while he’s gone,” Dean answers, turning to Cas, who pulls him back into bed. Dean doesn’t exactly stop him.

“I don’t suppose you could bring Sam back here? I’d love to see him.”

“I’d love to, but Sammy’s still got school, and he’s bound and determined to stay in the same one until the end of the school year. He’s already yelled himself hoarse about it. I don’t want to open that can of worms again.” Dean settles into the pillow and runs his fingers down Cas’ side.

“You’ll come back when you can, right?”

“Yeah, of course. Maybe we can take a road trip this summer? Drive to Seattle or maybe down to New Orleans for a week?”

“I like that idea. I like seeing you in the Impala. You look so… right, there, at home. It’s nice.”

Dean smiles and kisses him, pushing him onto his back to press him into the mattress. “It’s nice here, too. Wish I could stay.”

Cas smiles up at him, warm and perfect as he slides his feet up the back of Dean’s thighs and plays with his hair like he couldn’t stop touching him if he tried. Dean knows the feeling. “I guess I could stay ten more minutes. Dad won’t know the difference, right?” He doesn’t let Cas answer, just kisses him breathless and buries himself in Cas’ mouth for a little while longer.

-

Dean is hunched over a book on water creatures when John walks in covered in dried blood and muck. He zeroes in on Dean and glares. “Where’s your brother?”

“The library,” Dean answers, tensing up.

“Good. I’m taking a shower, and then you and I are going to talk about your little friend.” He walks past, and Dean hears the shower running. Dean stares at the page in front of him, but all he can concentrate on is the buzzing noise getting louder inside his head. A few excruciating minutes later, John is out of the bathroom dressed in clean clothes, and is looming over Dean. Dean doesn’t look up, but the silence ways heavy on his shoulders. He cracks after three excruciating minutes.

“Castiel isn’t my boyfriend. He’s just my friend. Last I checked, the world didn’t end over a hunter having a non-hunter friend. He has no idea what we do or what goes bump in the night or any of it. He’s just a normal guy who I happen to like.” He stops, plays back what he’s just said in his head. “As a friend. I’m not gay.”

John leans over the table to stare at Dean menacingly. “You look pretty queer to me every time you pick that phone up, boy. I raised you with more sense than that. The first rule of hunting: you don’t have friends.”

“I thought the first rule of hunting was ‘Don’t get killed’,” Dean says before he can stop himself. It earns him a hard slap.

“Don’t you sass me, boy. You might not be a kid anymore, but I can still kick your ass.”

“Yes, sir. I just don’t get what the problem is, I guess. You’ve got Bobby and Pastor Jim. Why can’t I have Cas?”

“Castiel isn’t a hunter. Bobby and Pastor Jim are hunters; I can call them if I need back-up. They don’t distract me from the job.”

“Cas doesn’t distract me. I went to see him on my break, and I came back as soon as you asked me to, didn’t I?”

“You argued about it.”

“I was hungover and tired. It wasn’t about Cas.”

John stared long and hard, hands clenched on the table in front of him. Dean has to concentrate not to fidget. Finally, John straightens. “You haven’t been picking up as many girls lately.”

“I’ve been busy hunting! With you!”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“I’ve never been hunting full-time before. You haven’t given me a break since my birthday, and that was four months ago. I barely have time to sleep.”

“Excuses.”

“Fine, I’ll go to the bar and pick up a chick tonight. You’re back now, and we’re not leaving for at least another week. Sammy’s still got school.”

John grunts and walks over to the bed and stretches out. “Go ahead. Get that boy out of your head before he poisons you.”

Dean squeezes the book he hadn’t even realized he was still holding until his knuckles are white. He manages to stay quiet. It wouldn’t fix anything to kick and scream like Sammy does.

-

Jeannie Benson is blonde and pretty, and she couldn’t say yes fast enough when he suggested they find somewhere more private. He makes sure John sees them leaving the bar together.

Rhonda Hurley is dark-haired and blue-eyed and makes him try on her panties. They’re pink. And satiny. And Dean’s not sure if he likes wearing them more or her ordering him to wear them. Or possibly both. She reminds him a little of Cas. He spends the weekend in her dorm and doesn’t wear anything but the panties the whole time.

Ashleigh Wright likes the Impala more than she likes Dean, but she still puts out in the backseat, so he doesn’t care. It’s not the best sex he’s ever had, but John doesn’t narrow his eyes later when he catches Dean on the phone with Cas, so it’s worth it.

Gretchen Moore is the unfortunate victim of a vengeful spirit. She is very grateful for Dean’s help. Very grateful.

Nancy Krei is a mother of two and, frankly, old enough to be Dean’s mother. But she gives awesome head, and she’s willing to let him try anal on her. She also doesn’t mind when he tells her about Cas and how he thinks he might be bisexual. She offers to call a friend of hers who’s also bisexual for a threesome. Dean’s hesitant at first, worried that his dad might find out, and also that he might be cheating on Cas if he has sex with another guy. Not that they’re in any way exclusive, and not that he hasn’t already told Cas he’s sleeping with women or why. It just feels a bit more like a betrayal this way. He decides not to do anal with the guy and agrees. Frank’s in his thirties and hot as fuck, and it takes all of Dean’s willpower not to agree to Frank fucking him when Frank buries three fingers in his ass. Instead, he blows Frank while fucking Nancy, and it’s not quite as awesome as blowing Cas, but it’s still not gross.

Keri Byrne gives him shit from the moment he steps up next to her at the bar, and he doesn’t think he’s going to get her number. Which is why he’s surprised when she asks him to take her home an hour later. The sex is… aggressive. And kind of awesome. She shoves him onto his hands and knees and spanks him before licking his hole and fingering him until he almost comes, before pushing him onto his back and riding him like a fucking pro. He hasn’t been this turned on since he had Cas naked underneath him. It’s a good thing when she kicks him out two hours later without giving him her number because he might have been tempted to call her for another round.

Lindsey Smith is a disappointment coming off of Keri. She makes pornstar noises and likes to watch herself in the mirror as Dean takes her from behind. He barely takes time to throw the condom away before he’s getting dressed and out the door.


	6. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam take Castiel on a road trip to Seattle. On the way, he is introduced to such exotic wonders as Bobby Singer's house (and Bobby Singer himself), hustling pool in biker bars, cheap motel rooms, and drunken sex in the Impala.

The apartment is only slightly less swanky than the dorm was, but Dean doesn’t really plan on seeing much of it. Sam is looking at it like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Cas lives here?”

“Apparently. He moved in a couple weeks ago, says he doesn’t want to move all his stuff back to Indiana just to come back again in the fall.”

“This is… really nice. Do you think it looks this nice inside?”

“Probably. Let’s find out.” He heads up to the front door, but pauses before reaching for the bell to turn to Sam. “Remember, Cas doesn’t know anything about hunting. We cannot say anything to him, and under no circumstances does he get anywhere near the trunk, got it?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Of course, Dean. Do I look stupid?”

Dean shrugs and rings the bell with Linn-Mathews on it.

“ _Hello?_ ” Avery’s voice crackles through the call box.

“Hey, Avery, it’s Dean.”

“ _Hey, hottie. Here to whisk Cas away for a few weeks of hot sweaty man-sex?_ ”

Dean glares at the speaker. “Can you just buzz us in, damnit?” The buzzer sounds amid peals of laughter. Dean jerks the door open and goes inside, waiting for Sam and leading him up the stairs to the apartment number Cas gave him. The door opens before they can knock, and Cas is standing there in plaid shorts and a v-neck t-shirt that makes him look both very gay and very hot. Dean has to push the urge to kiss him hello down deep in his gut. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean. Hello, Sam.” He reaches up to hug Dean, arms slinking up around his neck as he pulls him in. Dean doesn’t think it’s his imagination that Cas doesn’t have to reach quite as high anymore, and his shoulders feel a little broader under Dean’s hands. Dean really, really wants to kiss him, but he manages to quell the urge with a quick kiss to Cas’ throat that hopefully Sammy can’t see.

“Kiss him and get it over with. Jesus, we all know you’re fucking. Might as well get a free show out of it,” comes Avery’s voice from behind Cas. Dean looks past Cas to find her leaning against the door jam in the lowest-cut top he’s ever seen outside a bar and short shorts that would make the Spice Girls blush, smirking at him.

“Christ, Avery, could you not be crazy for like two seconds? You’re going to scar my little brother for life,” Dean grumbles as Cas lets him go to pull said brother into a decidedly more platonic hug of his own. Sam’s eyes look like a bug’s they’re so big, but Cas pats his back and glares back at Avery.

“Please ignore my friend, Sam. She is not often permitted in company for obvious reasons.”

“Are you guys really…?” Sam manages. He still looks like someone pulled the bottom out of his world.

“Don’t worry about it, Sammy. She’s just teasing.” Dean ruffles Sam’s hair and pulls him in to give him a noogie that manages to distract him enough to drop it, whining at Dean about not playing fair. Dean knows they’ll have to talk about it later, but for now, they’re fine. “Got your bag, Cas? We were hoping to get to South Dakota by tonight.”

“Are we going to Mount Rushmore? I’ve always wanted to see it,” Cas asks as he steps back into the apartment, nudging Avery out of the way. She’s eying Dean like he might do for dinner. Dean rolls his eyes at her.

“Sure, whatever you want. Sammy and I have pretty much seen all of it before, haven’t we, Sammy?”

Sam pushes him for the nickname but nods, smiling. “It’ll be fun to see it with you, though, Cas. We never really get to go places just for fun.”

“All that driving around and you’ve never gotten to enjoy anything you’ve seen?” Avery asks.

Dean and Sam pass a look to each other and shake their heads. “Dad’s always got a job to do,” Sam offers as Cas steps back into the hall with a rolling suitcase that’s as violently colored plaid as his shorts. Dean tries not to make a face.

“What’s your dad do?” Avery asks, leaning her head against the door jam.

“He’s a mechanic,” Sam says. Dean catches him glancing down at her breasts and smirks to himself.

“And he drives all over the country doing that?” She’s too damn smart for her own good, and Dean remembers why he sometimes doesn’t like her.

Cas saves them by kissing her cheek, and saying, “We should go. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Don’t have sex on my bed.”

“I make no promises, Novak,” she grins before glaring at Dean. “You take care of that little nerd for me. If he doesn’t come back in one piece, we’re going to have words, got it?”

“Don’t worry, he’s safe as houses with me. See you in a few weeks.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she calls after them as they retreat down the hall.

“That doesn’t leave much!” Cas calls back, grinning at her over his shoulder.

“Damn straight! Remember, condoms are your friend!”

“AVERY!” They hear her giggling maniacally as they descend to the ground floor and out of the building.

“She’s interesting,” Sam says, still making a face from the condoms comment.

“Sam, put Cas’ bag in the trunk,” Dean says, unlocking the passenger door for Cas. Sam takes the suitcase and the keys thrown to him, eying the open door. Dean’s going to hear about not letting him ride shotgun later, but he doesn’t care, because he’s got Cas pressed up against the car and is kissing him as soon as the trunk blocks Sam’s view. Cas mmms against his lips and squeezes his arm before he gets in, just as the trunk slams shut and Sam tosses the keys back to Dean. Dean circles the car, still licking the taste of Cas from his lips. He tastes like milk and Apple Jacks and that damn apple shampoo he uses is going to drive Dean crazy someday. Dean slides into the driver’s seat and turns the car on. Sammy’s leaning over the divider with his chin on his hands, telling Cas about something Dean didn’t catch.

“All right, Sam, what’s the rule?”

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his pie hole,” Sam replies, making a bitchface at Dean in the rear-view mirror.

“That’s right. Are we ready?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Cas answers, smiling over at Dean. He looks a little mussed and golden in the sunshine and it leaves warm things in Dean’s belly. He grins back at him and turns the car on, letting the sound of ‘Thunderstruck’ fill the interior up as he pulls out of his spot and they head west.

-

They’re half-way to Bobby’s when Sam finally asks the question Dean was hoping he wouldn’t. So far, Cas has been telling them about school and his friends and how much he likes Chicago, while Sam asks questions and Dean cracks the occasional joke, but they’ve hit a lull in conversation, and Sam it seems wants to fill it in the most awkward way possible.

“So, are you guys really having sex?”

Dean has to fight not to swerve the car into the next lane in shock, and Cas laughs so hard he starts choking. “Jesus, Sammy! What the hell?”

“Well, I was wondering. Avery said you were, and she doesn’t seem like a liar. And I’m not stupid. I’ve seen you kissing before.”

“When have you ever seen us kiss?” Dean asks, slightly panicked. This was a conversation he was really hoping not to have.

“Just before we left Truman, and then again when I was putting Cas’ suitcase away I saw you push him against the car.”

“I was just teasing him.”

“I know what kissing sounds like, Dean.”

“You’re right, Sam, we were kissing. And we have had sex… of a sort, before.” Cas turns in his seat, all earnest and serious, to look Sam straight in the eyes. “But I promise you that we will not touch each other in that way while on this trip if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Dean glances in the rear-view to see Sammy’s face and finds relief there. “Thanks, Cas. It doesn’t bother me, I just wanted to know. Just… not while I’m in the room, okay?” He pauses, then looks at Dean through the mirror. “Does Dad know?”

Dean clenches his fingers around the steering wheel. “No, and we are not telling him, understand? He doesn’t need to know.”

“What about Uncle Bobby? Aren’t we sleeping at his house tonight?”

“Yeah, I don’t know, what do you think?”

“Bobby Singer, your father’s friend?” Cas asks, turning towards Dean so he can speak to them both at the same time.

“Yeah, he lives outside Sioux Falls. I called him yesterday to tell him we were going through South Dakota, and he wants us to stay with him tonight. He wants to meet you, but I didn’t tell him about… us.” Dean hesitates, glancing sideways at Cas. They’ve never actually talked about what they’re doing with this, and Dean’s not sure he wants to talk about it now.

“I don’t think he’ll care. Uncle Bobby loves you. I think he wants you to be happy, no matter what,” Sam says, all sincerity and puppies.

“You think he’ll tell Dad?”

“No. Remember that time he let us skip the shooting range and took us to a baseball game instead? He never told Dad about that.”

“You’re right. I guess we can play it by ear, then. Cas?”

“I think that sounds like a good plan. I’m excited to meet this man. You speak very highly of him.”

Dean smiles. “Yeah, Bobby’s pretty awesome.” He launches into a story about Bobby that has Cas laughing and sparks a different story out of Sam. By the time they pass from Iowa to South Dakota, they’ve been telling him edited stories about Bobby for six hours. Cas is laughing over the story of Bobby trying to make gingerbread cookies and nearly starting a grease fire when they pull up to the house.

“But, why was there even any grease involved? You don’t fry gingerbread cookies.”

“Please try to tell Bobby that. I’d love to see his face,” Sam says, laughing in the back seat.

“You can tell him now; we’re here,” Dean says, parking the car in front of the house. They haven’t even gotten out of the car before the front door opens and Bobby comes out, looking cranky as ever, but still mostly happy to see them.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. And you brought a stray with you this time, didja? He better not have fleas.”

Dean rolls his eyes at Cas over the hood to show him Bobby is joking. Cas looks serious and shadowed under the flood lights. Sammy laughs and runs to give Bobby a hug. “Hey, Uncle Bobby, it’s good to see you,” he says into Bobby’s shirt. He’s still half-a-head shorter than Bobby and currently looks more like an eight-year-old than a fifteen-year-old. Dean has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He catches Cas around the neck as they round the car, and Cas gives him an annoyed look but lets him drag him over to Bobby anyway.

“Hey Bobby, this is Castiel Novak. Cas, this is Bobby.”

Cas slides out from under Dean’s arm and holds his hand out. “Hello, sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Dean and Sam have been telling me excellent things about you for the last several hours.”

Bobby shakes his hand and shoots a look at Dean. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ve been telling you all kinds of stories. You hungry? It’s a long drive from Chicago.”

“We stopped for dinner a few hours ago, thank you.”

“Well, let’s get inside, and you can tell me about yourself, Cas. Dean says you go to some fancy college in Chicago.”

Castiel smiles at Bobby and lets him lead him into the house, Sam following after. “The University of Chicago. I’m studying Linguistics. It’s quite thrilling. Dean says you are quite the linguist yourself…” Dean loses track of what they’re saying while he goes back to get their bags out of the car. By the time he gets inside, they’re all settled in the family room, and Sam’s talking about his perfect report card like it’s his first girlfriend or something. Bobby’s in his recliner, beer in hand, Sam and Cas are on the couch, Sam with a coke, Cas with a beer he still looks confused that Bobby served him. There’s another beer sitting next to Cas’ and Dean guesses it’s his. He crowds Cas over on the couch and grabs his beer.

“There are quite a few weapons around,” Cas murmurs to Dean.

Dean puts an arm over the back of the couch, fluffing Cas’ hair as he does, and takes a gulp of beer. “Bobby likes to hunt on the weekends. Just assume it’s all loaded and you’ll be fine.”

“Listen to him, Cas. I like hunting, and I don’t like to unload. Don’t touch any of it unless you know what to do with it,” Bobby confirms.

Cas nods, still looking around the room. “You have an interesting book collection, Bobby. May I?” He moves to stand, and Bobby lets him after hesitating a moment, giving Dean a look as he gets up that Dean hopes Cas didn’t see. He knows Bobby’s going to want to talk to him later. Thank god he’s already spun a tale to Cas about how Bobby was a PhD candidate in the occult before his wife died. Cas had sort of bought it in the car. Dean’s hoping Bobby can figure the story out without a pow-wow, in case Cas asks—which he will because Cas always asks.

Cas starts looking through Bobby’s books, pulling one out in a language Dean can’t even begin to identify. “So, wanna watch a movie?” he asks, looking to Bobby. Bobby gives him the facial equivalent of _Idjit_ and gets up to wheel the tv in from the bedroom.

-

Cas is all limbs, curled around Dean like a goddamn tentacle monster. Dean opens his eyes and winces, not quite ready to be awake yet. He glances up and sees Bobby sitting at his chair, feet propped up on the desk, watching Dean over his coffee mug. Shit.

“Somethin’ you wanna tell me about Cas?”

Dean groans, “No,” and buries his face in his pillow.

“Wrong answer.”

He sighs and starts gently prying Cas off him, trying not to wake him. Cas mumbles in his sleep and turns over, pushing back into Dean. Dean takes the opportunity to slip off the sofa bed, and stretches. “Can I get coffee first?”

“Coffee won’t make this conversation go away, boy.”

“No, but it’s too early for alcohol, and I’m gonna need something to get me through.” He turns and goes into the kitchen. It takes him way longer than it should to pour a cup of coffee, he knows, but he doesn’t care. He downs the first one like it’s a shot of whiskey, ignoring that he’s almost scalded his throat, and pours another cup before finally trudging back to the living room. Bobby’s drinking his coffee like he’s got all the time in the world. Cas has stretched out on the sofa bed and hasn’t left much room if Dean wants to crawl back in. One look at Bobby and he knows that won’t be happening. He circles the desk and leans against it next to Bobby’s feet.

“Well?”

“Cas is… Cas and I… we sort of have a… thing, I guess.”

“You don’t say. I’m guessing your daddy don’t know.”

“He… he thought we were, but I convinced him we weren’t. He wasn’t exactly… happy, about the whole… guy thing.”

“And the fact that Cas isn’t a hunter and doesn’t know anything about hunting wouldn’t have anything to do with that.”

“I’ve never had a… thing… with someone who did.”

“Cas is smart. He’s gonna figure something out. Just a matter of time.”

“So, he figures it out. So what? There are plenty of people we save who find out about it. We let them have a pass. Why can’t Cas?”

“It’s not safe, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, he’s safe with me. So, are you okay with this or…?”

Bobby scoffs at him. “Boy, I don’t care who you roll around with. Just don’t be doin’ it in my house, got it?”

“Yeah, Bobby, I got it. Thanks.”

Bobby pats him on the shoulder and gets up to walk into the kitchen. “Breakfast’ll be up in a minute. Wake Sleeping Beauty, will ya?” He turns his back on the room and starts padding around in the kitchen. Dean turns to look at Cas, sprawled out. He still looks hot, even drooling on Dean’s pillow—especially drooling on Dean’s pillow. Dean circles the desk again and settles back in the bed, stealing the pillow Cas isn’t laying on and propping himself up so he can drink his coffee while Cas once more wraps himself around Dean’s legs, using his thigh as a headrest instead of the drool-covered pillow. He makes a muffled pleased sound and burrows closer.

“I smell coffee,” he rasps.

Dean swirls his cup near Cas’ face before taking a drink. “Bobby’s making breakfast.”

“I heard him. He’s right, you know. I will figure it out.”

Dean freezes, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw. “Leave it, babe. Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

“Bobby has an interesting book collection.”

“Cas.”

Cas starts to sit up, stretching his back and yawning wide. He looks at Dean seriously when he’s finally sitting. It’s not the sort of serious Dean really wants leveled on him. “Why do you hide from me? There’s nothing you could tell me that would push me away.”

“I’m a serial killer, Cas,” Dean deadpans before the scary enormity of what Cas has just told him threatens to choke him.

Cas rolls his eyes. “No, you’re not. You aren’t a psychopath. You don’t fit the profile.”

Dean smirks over his coffee and pushes the other thoughts away. “I’m kind of a psychopath.”

“Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes at the look Cas is giving him and leans over to kiss him. “Relax, dude, I’m not really a serial killer or a psychopath. But that’s all you get. Don’t go poking.”

“But you poke me all the time.”

“You’re fun to poke.” Dean pokes him in the side with a sly smile, liking the look of annoyed amusement that Cas’ face turns into before Dean’s dipping to kiss him again. Cas kisses back, curling fingers into his hair and pulling him closer. A pan gets knocked a little too loudly in the kitchen, and Dean pulls away, glancing at Bobby giving him the evil eye from the kitchen. No sex in the house, right, that probably means no making out where Bobby can see it either. He pecks Cas once more and doesn’t complain when Cas steals his coffee cup and drinks the rest of it down.

-

“Are you a demon-worshiper?”

“What did I say about poking?” Dean pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. He shouldn’t have let Cas look at Bobby’s book collection. Sam’s asleep in the back, thank god.

“I want to know you, Dean. You tell me so many things about your family life, but nothing about what you and your father do for a living. I’m sorry if I’m being invasive, but I want to know everything about you. You know everything about me, don’t you?” Cas’ fingers creep over his thigh and squeeze.

“Cas, this is… I’m not allowed to talk about this. It’s for your own safety. Could you just drop it, please?”

Cas is quiet for a minute, and Dean hopes that maybe he’ll listen this time. Of course, he knows better. Cas is more persistent than a dog after a bone when he wants something. “Are you in the mob? Is that why your father gave you his car when you turned eighteen? Did you officially join the Family?”

“You caught me. Just call me Vito.”

“No, that can’t be right. You can’t be a hero working for the mob, not matter how you contort your motivations. You also wouldn’t be moving all over the place. And it doesn’t explain all the hunting references or those occultist books of Bobby’s.”

Dean stares at the dark road ahead of him, hoping Cas will get tired and change the subject. He is surprised when he hears the click of Cas’ seatbelt being released, and Cas curls into Dean’s side, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean lifts his arm over Cas and wraps it around his shoulders.

“Neil can’t stop talking about how much he likes the ID you made him,” Cas says quietly into his chest.

Dean fluffs his hair, grinning. “Is he buying all kinds of booze now?”

“Yes. The fridge has an entire shelf dedicated exclusively to Miller Light. It’s disturbing.”

“Happy to be an enabler.”

Cas pinches his side, but doesn’t say anything further. A few minutes later Dean hears soft snuffling noises and looks down to find him asleep. He smiles to himself and keeps driving.

-

Dean likes watching Cas in dive bars. They're at a tiny bar on the outskirts of Spokane. Cas is perched on the very edge of his stool, glancing uncomfortably at the other patrons. The only time he doesn’t look uncomfortable is while he devours his burger. Dean glances at Sam and smirks at him. Sam just smiles and eats another fry. “Drink your beer, Cas.” Dean says, pushing Cas’ beer closer to him.

“Do they have a straw?”

“Babe, drink it. It’s not poison, I promise.”

Cas glares, but takes a drink, and then another. It isn’t long before he’s loosening up. Dean buys him another beer. He’s giggling by the time it’s empty and leaning into Dean, smiling at Sam like a sappy puppy. “You’re brother’s trying to get me drunk.”

“Looks like he’s doing more than trying,” Sam responds, smirking over his coke.

“I think you’re right.”

“Wanna play some pool now that you don’t care about the germs in this place?” Dean asks.

“Cas knows how to play pool?”

“Of course. Dean taught me the last time I saw him,” Cas tells Sam, standing up. Dean follows, mostly because of the wobbling.

“You know… how would you feel about playing a stranger? For money?” Dean asks, remembering how good Cas was the last time.

“But I want to play against you. I can’t touch you inappropriately if I’m playing against a stranger,” Cas says, running his hand up Dean’s chest in a caress.

Dean chuckles, catching Cas’ hand and turning him around, pulling his back close to Dean’s chest by that same hand. “Sam, meet drunk-and-handsy-Cas . Drunk-and-handsy-Cas, meet my little brother.”

“Hell-ohh,” Cas says, drawing out the O in an exaggerated slur as he waves at Sam with a goofy smile. Sam just laughs and shakes his head.

“Come on, let’s find a victim for your adorable charms.” Dean directs Cas towards the pool tables.

“I am not adorable.”

“You are _so_ adorable.” Dean parks Cas in front of an empty table and pats his shoulder. “Okay, I’m going to go get us another round. I want you to look innocent and start asking the guys around here to play you. Tell them you’re friends say you’re so bad they don’t want to play you. And if you find someone before I get back, play to lose.”

“What, why? I’m good at pool, Dean. You even said so.”

“I know, dude, that’s why I told you to suck. You’ll suck the first round, then ask for a re-match and bet the guy a hundred bucks you can beat him. And then do.”

Cas squints at him, grabbing onto his shirt front and leaning into his personal space a little bit more than he probably should in a bar full of drunk bikers. “Are we hustling pool?”

“Yes, we most certainly are.”

“I’m not comfortable lying to strangers, Dean.”

“I’ll suck you off when we get back to the hotel, after Sammy goes to sleep.”

Cas scoffs at him. “You were going to do that anyway.”

“Oh, I was, was I?”

“Yes, while fucking me with your fingers.”

All the blood in his head makes a hasty charge to his lower extremity, and he has to hold onto the pool table to keep upright in the rush. “Jesus, Cas, talk like that any more and I’m gonna have to drag you to the bathroom and have my way with you now.”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t object.”

Dean groans and gnashes his teeth together to stop the urge to lift Cas onto the pool table and take him right there. “I’m going to get us another beer. You find someone to play pool with. I’ll be back in a minute.” Dean walks away, heading back to the bar. He can still hear Cas for a few feet, already walking up to the nearest biker.

“Hello, sir, I was wondering if you might like to play a game of pool against me? My friends refuse to play with me because they say I’m terrible, but I really want to play a few rounds.”

Dean hears the biker’s deep laugh just as he reaches the bar. When he comes back with two beers and another coke for Sammy, who has gravitated to the pool table to watch, Cas is leant over the table, failing to hit the ball for the second time. The guy he’s playing against is taller than Dean, packed tight with muscle, and covered in tattoos of pin-up girls and Harley Davidson symbols. Dean pulls a stool up next to Sam’s and parks himself, handing Sam his drink.

“Is Cas really any good at pool?” Sam asks in a whisper.

“Better than Vinnie Markowitz.”

“Wow. This should be fun.”

“Yep.” They settle in to watch. After Cas loses his first game horribly, he offers the bet and saunters over to Dean while the other guy sets the table up. He’s grinning stupidly as he steps between Dean’s spread knees and takes possession of his beer.

“Am I doing well?”

“Awesome, babe; you’re doing just what you’re supposed to. Kicks his ass this round, and we’ll be up a hundred bucks.”

“And then you’ll suck me off?” Cas asks, blinking up at Dean with innocent eyes.

Dean should probably be less shocked by the statement than he is; it’s not like Cas exactly has a filter while drunk. Dean hears Sam’s gasp of indignation beside him. “Cas, watch it! Sensitive ears here.”

Cas looks at Sam like he’s never seen him before. “I’m sorry, Sam. I forgot you were there. If I win this game, your brother is going to suck me off in the car while you’re asleep.” He grins a happy, drunken grin and takes a deep drink from his beer.

Sam is coughing now, sounding like he’s going to hack up a lung any second.

“Cas, language! Poor Sammy doesn’t need to hear about what we do when he’s not around.”

“But I didn’t curse, Dean.”

Dean shakes his head, trying not to laugh at the earnest look Cas is giving him. He ruffles Cas’ hair and nudges him backwards. “Go play pool before you traumatize Sammy for life. Your friend looks like he’s ready for you anyway.”

“Okay, but you owe me.”

“Don’t worry, I always pay my debts.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Cas gives him a hard look before sauntering back over to the pool table just in time to take his first shot. He sinks his first ball without even blinking at it. The biker looks shocked, as does Sam, who looks from Cas to Dean and back again.

“Did he just…” Sam whispers in awe.

“That’s my boy,” Dean murmurs, grinning into his glass. “Makes up for the childhood trauma, doesn’t it?” An hour later, Cas has an extra four hundred in his pocket from two rematches, and Dean’s leading him out under his arm, Sam trailing in their wake.

Cas is grinning ear-to-ear. “That was amazing! Did you see his face when I sunk that last eight ball? I thought he was going to have a heart attack!” he exclaims, all but bouncing on his toes in excitement.

“It was awesome, man! I only wish we could have you around more often. We’d be rolling in it.” Dean grins back, pressing a sweaty kiss to Cas’ temple. The heated look Cas shoots him keeps him pleasantly warm as they reach the motel.

“That was really cool, Cas! I’ve never seen someone play that well before, and this was only your second time, right?”

“Third, I played with my college friends a month or so ago. Kicked their asses, too.”

“You should play professionally.”

“He just did,” Dean reminds him, fishing in Cas’ pocket for the cash and waving it in Sam’s face. Cas snatches the money back and stuffs it back in his pocket.

“My money, thank you.”

“Our money. I told you what to do, and we need it to pay for the motels on the way back.”

“Can we do it again?”

“I thought you didn’t like lying to people,” Dean teases, smirking.

Cas pulls the key from his other pocket and unlocks the motel room door for them. “I don’t, but I also don’t like being underestimated. I don’t mind taking advantage of people when they think they can take advantage of me.”

“No offense, Cas, but you do look like someone who would suck at pool. You can’t really blame them for underestimating you,” Sam says, making a beeline to his bed and pulling pajamas from his duffel.

Cas looks down at himself and then up at Sam, turning his head sideways in confusion. “Why do I look like someone who would not excel at pool? I am highly intelligent and have studied physics extensively.”

“Yeah, but they’re bikers. They don’t know any of that. You’re short and you look like you’re my age. And you wobble when you’re drunk. Easy pickings as far as they’re concerned.”

“Which is why we kick their asses and take their money, right Sammy?” Dean says, patting Sam on the back on the way to the bathroom.

“Right,” Sam replies as he starts getting undressed and into his pajamas. “Don’t take too long. I want to brush my teeth.”

“Out in a second,” Dean says as he closes the door. By the time he comes back out, Sam’s in his pajamas and waiting with his toothbrush and toothpaste at the door. Cas is staring at his open suitcase like he can’t decide what to do with it. Sam slides into the bathroom past Dean and shuts the door like he needs privacy to brush his fucking teeth, but whatever.

Dean takes the opportunity to sidle up behind Cas and pull him close, kissing the side of his neck. “Get dressed like you’re going to bed. We’ll sneak out to the car as soon as Sam’s asleep,” he breathes into Cas’ ear, licking the outer ridge.

Cas makes a little whining noise and drops his head to the side to give him more access, his hands coming up to twine with Dean’s across his waist. “Why do we need to sneak? Sam knows we’re going to the car to have sex.”

“Right, ‘cause us just leaving for the car with a goodnight and a don’t-wait-up wouldn’t be awkward as hell.”

“I don’t think so. He knows what’s happening. He’s old enough to understand, and he’s already said it doesn’t bother him as long as we don’t do it in front of him. How do you normally address leaving him to hook up with someone?”

“Call him and tell him not to wait up. But those are strangers. This is different.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“You’re too logical. Fine, get in your pajamas anyway. I don’t want to wake him up when we come back in trying to get ready for bed.”

“You just want to see me naked with the lights on,” Cas scoffs, making a face at Dean over his shoulder.

“Mmm, you caught me. I can’t resist that tight little ass of yours.” He swoops in to steal a kiss before Cas can yell at him for vulgar language or something. Cas hums into his mouth as he turns around, raising up on his toes to meet Dean’s mouth. Dean takes the opportunity to squeeze Cas’ ass through his shorts, pulling him in close. Cas starts giggling, pulling away when he can’t stop and falling into Dean’s chest. He’s still giggling as the bathroom door opens, and Sam comes out, looking very confused.

“You two okay?”

“I think Cas might be a lot drunker than he appears,” Dean tries to explain.

“No, I’m fine, I promise,” Cas assures, still giggling as he wiggles out of Dean’s arms and pulls pajamas out of his suitcase. He stumbles on the way to the bathroom, busting out in more giggles.

“Yeah, you look fine. Need any help in there?”

“You would just loooove to help me, Winchester.”

“Of course I would, babe.” Dean goes to follow only to have the door shut in his face. Sam’s laughing at him when he turns around. He glares at his little brother and roughs his hair up while pushing him towards his bed. “Yeah, yeah, go to bed.”

“God, you’re such a jerk,” Sam shouts, pushing him away.

“Bitch,” Dean snaps back. Sammy just grins at him and crawls in bed, shaking his head. He grabs his book and opens it like he’s going to be up reading for a while and has no intention of going to sleep any time soon. Dean goes to his duffel and starts changing, eying Sammy over the bed. He doesn’t think Drunky McGrabby-Hands is going to be able to keep things chaste if they have to get in bed together and wait Sammy out.

 _This is gonna be awkward._ “If I tell you Cas and I are gonna go have sex in the car, are you gonna be a man about it?”

Sam makes the bitch face to end all bitch faces. “Dean, seriously? Can’t you just say you’re going to get ice together like normal people?”

“Yep, that’s what we’re gonna do. In our pajamas. For at least half an hour, probably longer considering how drunk Cas is.”

Sam continues to bitch-face. “Great, now I have that image stuck in my head. I hate you.”

“Back atcha,” Dean says with a wink just as the bathroom door opens and Cas comes out in his Leave-It-to-Beaver pajamas. “Ready?”

Cas frowns, glancing at Sam. Dean just shrugs. Cas deposits his folded clothes on top of his suitcase, and meets Dean by the bed. “I’m ready for bed, yes.”

“Awesome. Night, Sammy,” Dean says, wrapping his arm around Cas’ shoulder and turning him towards the door.

“Night guys. Enjoy getting your… ice,” Sam answers, faking a smile. Dean has to resist the urge to laugh.

“Ice?” Cas asks, looking up at Dean with big blue eyes.

“Just say goodnight, Cas.”

“Good night, Sam. Sleep well. We’ll try not to wake you when we come back with the… ice.”

“Thanks, Cas. Good night.”

Dean doesn’t waste anymore time pulling Cas onto the sidewalk, palming the keys on the way out. “But Dean, you forgot the ice bucket…”

“We’re not getting ice, Cas.”

“But Sam said…”

Dean just shakes his head and opens the car door. “Don’t worry about Sam, babe. Don’t you want your reward for kicking so much ass at pool?”

Cas stops looking back at the door and focuses on Dean. “My reward? You mean do I want you to suck me off while you finger me until I come? Yes, I would like that very much.”

Dean groans and drops his head forward onto Cas’ shoulder, smiling as Cas presses kisses to his neck. “That mouth of yours is going to kill me one day…” Cas giggles, licking under his chin. Dean never would have expected a year’s worth of phone sex to be worth it, but damn.

“I like it when you turn pink.”

Dean glares down at him, gently pushing him towards the open door. “I do not turn pink, asshole. Do you want a blowjob or not?”

“Of course, Dean.” He turns and crawls into the backseat, wiggling his adorable pinstriped ass as he does.

Dean slaps his wiggling ass, laughing at the glare he gets in return as he climbs in after Cas. “Couldn’t help it. Your cute little ass was begging for a slap.”

“You will come to regret it, Winchester.”

Dean crowds him back against the seat and nips at his lip. “Do you know how hot you are when you call me Winchester?”

“Why are you still talking? There are better uses for your mouth right now.”

“Damn, Cas.” Dean pushes Cas’ pajamas top up high enough to lean down and lap at a nipple. Cas arches into his mouth, clenching fingers into Dean’s hair to hold him against his chest. Dean nips at the little nub, humming as Cas hisses and pulls his hair. He bites harder, tugging a little, and Cas curses and shoves his head further down his chest.

“I’m not interested in foreplay. Suck my cock already,” Cas growls, pulling harder at Dean’s hair. There’s no arguing with that; Dean’s hands are already working Cas’ pajamas pants down while he flicks his tongue at the head of Cas’ dick. The pre-come is still slimy, but he likes the taste of it better this time. He settles his elbows around Cas’ hips and licks up his shaft. Cas shifts his hips closer, humming. Dean smiles, watching Cas’ face melt with pleasure as he sucks the head into his mouth. He closes his eyes as he starts sucking Cas down, concentrating on the taste of him.

Cas makes an impatient noise and shoves him up into a crouch, pulling at his t-shirt. “Take this stupid thing off. I want to feel you.” He has the shirt off in another few seconds and pushes Dean’s head back down. Dean chuckles to himself as he gets back to work, not wasting time in sucking Cas back down. Cas takes one of Dean’s hands into his and brings Dean’s first two fingers into his mouth, sucking on them and coating them with his saliva. When they’re nice and wet, he pushes them down. “Inside me, now,” he rasps, tilting his head back so all Dean can see is his chin.

“No ‘please’?” Dean asks, trailing wet, sloppy open-mouthed kisses up Cas’ shaft. He drags the two wet fingertips over the clenching skin of Cas’ pucker, teasing it.

Cas’ fingernails dig into his hairline. “Fuck off and fuck me.” Dean grins to himself and gently prods the first finger in, nice and slow. It slides with more ease than he’d thought it would, and he gets a momentary image of Cas naked and stuffed full with his plug. He groans and pushes the finger all the way in to the third knuckle, and Cas makes a loud keening noise and arches his hips into Dean’s hand. Dean crooks the finger, curious. It had felt good to him when Keri did it. Apparently, it was universal because Cas calls out his name and digs his nails harder into Dean’s scalp. “Just like that, yeah… Fuck, _Dean_ …”

Dean likes hearing his name spill out of Cas’ mouth in that dirty, needy way. He pushes a second finger in along with the first, having to work a little more to get them both in before he can bend them slightly to stroke at the little bump he can feel just inside. He suspects the bump might be Cas’ prostate, and the way Cas is practically crying above him convinces him it is. He teases it mercilessly, driving Cas closer and closer to orgasm, until Cas is a trembling mess underneath him, shooting string after string of cum into Dean’s mouth.

Dean slurps at the messy head of Cas’ cock, sucking down hard on the shaft and listening as Cas cries out above him. Cas’ bare feet have curled over his shoulder blades and his toes clench at Dean’s skin. His chest is heaving from the effort to breathe. He looks like a filthy mess, and Dean wants to eat him. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out, wiping them on the dirty rag shoved under the seat. He does his best to lick Cas clean of his cum while Cas’ breathing slowly evens out. Eventually, Cas sits up, watching him with a look of wonder. Dean shifts uncomfortably on his knees, the hard floor of the Impala cutting into his skin.

“You like that?” Dean asks, smirking because he’s already sure of the answer. Cas doesn’t give one, just pulls Dean closer and kisses him breathless. He hand travels down Dean’s bare chest and abdomen, starts plucking at the drawstring of his sweatpants. It’s a relief when Cas finally frees his erection from the confines of his boxer-briefs. Cas’ fingers are hot and tight around him, stroking with purpose. Dean’s a little far gone to care that it’s a chafing, until he does and has to pull away for a second. “Hold on,” he mumbles, spitting in his hand and taking over Cas’ stroking for a few second.

Cas wrinkles his nose and buries his face in Dean’s shoulder. “That is unsanitary,” he says as he reaches for Dean’s dick again.

“Dude, I just had my fingers up your ass. You’re really gonna get a little squeamish about spit?” Dean asks, chuckling. He nuzzles into Cas’ hairline, smiling, his breath catching a little as Cas squeezes him hard.

“I should have gotten the lubricant from my suitcase,” Cas answers.

“You brought lube with you?”

“Of course I did. I knew we’d be having sex.”

“Oh you did, did you? A little presumptuous, don’t you think?” Dean teases. Cas huffs a laugh and lifts his mouth to Dean’s again, pushing him onto his back on the bench seat and straddling him. Cas’ fingers speed up, stroking him faster with each gasp he lets out between kisses. His rough fingers feel amazing against Dean’s over-sensitized skin. " _Fuck_ , babe,” Dean moans, clenching his finger against the seat. Cas pulls away from his lips with a wicked grin and crouches low over Dean’s stomach, flicking his tongue over Dean’s throbbing head. Dean cries out, unable to hold back his orgasm any longer with the feel of Cas’ tongue on him and the sight of his scrappy dark hair bowed over him. Cas lifts his face out of dodge, smirking as he watches Dean’s come shoot out over his stomach with a look of pure satisfaction.

He sits back on his heels between Dean’s spread knees when Dean’s finished, practically preening with how pleased he is with himself. Dean can’t help but laugh at his expression. “Proud of yourself?” he rasps out, wiping the sweat from his forehead in an attempt to calm his trembling hands.

Cas nods, grinning, before he leans over to kiss Dean again. “I made you come with my own hands and got to watch you do it. I couldn’t be prouder. You were beautiful,” he says, voice a little rough with awe. Dean pulls him down for a deep, dirty kiss, tempted to flip him over and take him right there. If it weren’t for the lack of lube, he might have really been tempted, but Cas deserves more than a quick half-drunk fuck in the back seat of the Impala for losing his v-card. He settles for kissing Cas until he’s loose-limbed and giggly again, smiling down at Dean like a goof.

“Alright, sexy, I think it’s time for bed. We stay in here any longer, and I’m gonna get leg cramps,” Dean says, smacking Cas gently on the ass again. Cas grumbles, but reluctantly pulls his clothes back on and crawls out of the back seat. Dean follows suit, and they open the motel room door slowly, only to find Sammy slumped against his pillows, book fallen open on his lap, just beginning to snore. Dean rolls his eyes and goes over to move the book away and turn the light off. He goes into the bathroom to quickly clean the drying come off his stomach, and is crawling into bed with Cas a minute later. Cas doesn’t waste time snuggling into Dean’s side with a happy sigh. Dean drifts with thoughts of spending every night snuggled up with Cas, and for the first time in a long time, he thinks maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to quit hunting and settle down somewhere. He drops off with a smile on his face, squeezing Cas gently in his sleep.

-

Cas has asked Dean if he could drive the Impala every day of their trip. Every day, Dean’s response has been the same: “Sorry, babe, but no one gets to drive Baby but me.” The morning after they leave Yellowstone on their way back from Seattle, Cas corners Dean in the bathroom with a coy smile he’s only ever shown Dean while drunk and pushes Dean down onto the closed toilet bowl lid. Dean looks up at him with raised eyebrows, waiting to find out what Cas is planning.

“I want to drive the Impala today,” Cas informs him, straddling his lap.

Dean shakes his head. “I already told you, Cas…”

“Dean, you are being unreasonable. You know that I am a more than capable driver, and under much worse circumstances than driving the Impala in the middle of summer. Do you realize that I have to keep cat litter in the back of my car during the winter so that it does not fishtail when it snows? Or that it requires a feet of strength just to turn the wheel more than 20°?”

“I get it, I do, but I don’t trust anyone to drive Baby but me.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me with your car, Dean?” Cas trails his fingers over Dean’s shoulders, down his chest.

“No, I just…” The lower Cas’ hands get, the harder it is for Dean to think straight.

“You trust me with this, don’t you?” Cas asks, his voice going as low as his hands, cupping Dean’s half-hard dick through his boxers. Dean grabs onto Cas’ thigh, trying to hold back a groan. Cas is persistent, starting to stroke him through his underwear. “You _do_ trust me to take care of you, don’t you, Dean?”

“Jesus, Cas…” Dean mutters, dropping his head back against the wall, eyes drifting to the ceiling. Cas’ fingers aren’t letting up, just getting stronger and faster. Dean’s caught so off guard, he doesn’t have the wherewithal to try to hold out for a respectable length of time. He’s clenching his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from calling out as he comes.

When Dean opens his eyes again, Cas is practically preening like a fucking peacock. “So? Can I drive?”

Dean chuckles, shaking his head a little. “You sly bastard… You do anything to hurt Her, you’re gonna owe me big,” he finally capitulates.

Cas leans closer with a grin to kiss him, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. “Thank you, Dean. Just think how sexy I’m going to look driving Her.”

Dean groans against Cas’ lips. “I swear to god, you’re gonna kill me…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you die happy,” Cas answers, kissing him again. They only stop making out when Sam bangs on the bathroom door.

“I don’t want to know what you’re doing in there, but it’s 10:30. Can you hurry up so we can check out before we get charged another day?” Cas gets off of Dean’s lap with a final peck to his lips. He has a smug smile on his face for the rest of the day. Sam looks shocked when Cas fishes the keys out of Dean’s jeans pocket without asking and gets into the driver’s seat of the Impala. Dean doesn’t say anything, but he’s already regretting giving in. Cas is going to be an impossible tyrant all day, he can just tell.

“You’re letting Cas drive the Impala?” Sam asks from the back seat, sounding incredulous.

“Drop it, Sammy.”

Cas pops the Metallica tape out of the player with possibly the most satisfied look Dean has ever seen on a person—including the first time he made Cas come—and places the tape on Dean’s lap. He produces another one from places unknown and pushes it in and hits PLAY. The most obnoxious emo music Dean has ever been subjected to drifts out of the speakers. He groans, squeezing his eyes closed. “Damnit, Cas.”

“Sam, can you remind Dean what the rule in this car is, please?” Cas says as he buckles his seat-belt and pulls the car out of Park.

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake-hole,” Sam answers, grinning like an idiot.

“I am so gonna get you back for this.”

“Don’t talk to me while I’m driving, Dean. You might break my concentration.” Dean shoots him a glare, but Cas is too busy smirking smugly again to notice.

-

Pulling back up to the apartment building this time around is not as pleasant as the first visit. They’re dropping Cas off, and Dean’s not sure when he’ll be able to get back to Chicago again. He finds a parking space half-a-block away, but is reluctant to get out. Cas turns in his seat and smiles. “This is my stop, I suppose.”

“I’ll get your bag for you,” Sam says, reaching over the back seat to pull the keys out of the ignition. Dean’s grateful for the extra privacy; as soon as Sam’s out of the car, Cas is sliding across the seat to kiss him.

“I’m going to miss you,” Cas says as he pulls away, eyes locking onto Dean’s.

“Yeah, uh… me, too.”

“Get back here as soon as you can.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything. I’m gonna make sure it isn’t as long as last time, though.”

Castiel’s quiet ‘good’ is accompanied by soft fingers rucking up his t-shirt as Cas crowds closer again for another kiss. The trunk is shut with a loud BANG, but Dean holds Cas in place for another few seconds of their kiss, reluctant to let him get out of the car. He does soon enough, getting out himself so he doesn’t have to watch Cas slide along the upholstery of the Impala for the last time in what will probably be a long time.

Sam is waiting for them on the curb, the plaid suitcase parked next to him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in for a while, eat dinner maybe?” Cas asks, turning from pulling up the handle on his suitcase.

“Nah, we’ve gotta get back, or Dad’ll be wondering. Next time, though.” Cas nods, his expression turning serious. Dean looks at him for probably longer than normal, soaking in every awkward, sexy inch of him. “Sam, turn around for a minute.” Dean hears grumbling, accompanied by shuffling feet. Cas grins, leaning into Dean’s hands cupping his face as they kiss, melting into each other. Dean wants to memorize the taste of him, the slide of his tongue against Dean’s. Cas stands on tip-toe and buries his hands in Dean’s hair, tugging it as he nibbles on Dean’s lip before licking back into his mouth.

Eventually, Sam clearing his throat forces them to pull away. Cas is still smiling as Dean pecks his lips one final time. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yes, you will. Call me when you get to your motel.”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t let Neil get you so drunk you get handsy, okay? I won’t be around to grope.”

“And I might have to find someone else? I’ll think about it.” He turns to Sam, smiling. “It was nice to spend time with you, Sam. I hope I see you again soon. You have my email address and my cell number?” Sam nods. “Don’t hesitate to text or email me if you need anything.”

“We don’t have texting yet, but I’ll email you. Thanks, Cas. It was good to see you, too.” They shake hands. Dean makes a mental note to figure out what texting is finally. Sam gets back into the Impala, in the passenger seat this time. Cas looks up at Dean again. Dean looks back. A wolf-whistle sounds three floors up and they both look to see Avery and Neil leant out the apartment window, grinning and waving. Cas rolls his eyes and pulls Dean in for a final kiss.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

“Bye, Cas.” Dean waves to Avery and Neil and walks around the car to get in on the driver’s side. Sam is already nose-deep in his book. Dean waits until Cas is inside the apartment before he pulls away from the curb.


	7. Unexpected Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel gets exciting news at work, has an entertaining conversation with Dean, and spends an interesting Christmas at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize again for this chapter taking as long as it has for me to post. ~~I am having a frustrating time finding a reliable (or rather any) beta for this story, and it is becoming increasingly uncomfortable for me to post chapters with only my own editing. I have chapter eight written and completed, but am VERY reluctant to post it next Sunday without having the benefit of a beta for it. If any of my lovely readers would be interested in assisting me in this matter, I would be forever grateful for the help.~~
> 
> Okay, I have AMAZING readers! I've had four beta offers in the last two hours alone! Thank you all so much!

There is a certain meditative quality to his work at the library, even though he is the lowest rung on the employee ladder. He knows there will come a time when he fields the questions that result in un-shelved books, but for now he is content to put the remains of research projects finished and not back in their rightful places. He finds pleasure in fulfilling a necessary duty, giving order to chaos. He finds himself thinking of Dean often, creating little fantasies in his head of what life would be like if Dean were to stop traveling and settle into life in Chicago with Castiel. He wonders what it would be like to look up from his shelving cart to find Dean standing at the end of the aisle, watching him with a sexy smile and a cock of his hip against the nearest shelf.

He spends the entire morning’s worth of shelving indulging this fantasy, imagining what it would be like to cook dinner with Dean pressed up against his back, stealing tastes of everything with a sly grin and warm kisses to the back of Cas’ neck. Waking up to Dean half-sprawled on top of him every morning, hair mussed, face wrinkled from the press of his pillow. Dean coming home covered in grease and sweat and not able to wait long enough to even wash his hands before he has Castiel pushed up against the front door, kissing him so deep he can feel his toes curl in his shoes just thinking about it.

Castiel is only brought out of his thoughts when he reaches for another book to put away and comes up empty-handed. He looks down at the cart and snorts. He’d been so distracted he hadn’t even noticed he was finished. He takes the cart downstairs using the staff elevator, humming to himself and hoping his half-hard-on won’t be noticeable. It is gone by the time the doors open, and he pushes the cart into the back. He pauses in his path to the empty cart depot in the Circulation office at the sound of his name coming from the open door of the Head of Circulation. He pokes his head into the doorway, finding Margot sitting at her desk with a welcoming smile. "Yes?" he asks, hesitant. Margot almost never speaks to him unless there is some sort of problem with a missing book (which thankfully has yet to be his fault) or policy change he needs to be aware of.

"I was hoping I would catch you before the end of your shift. Come and sit, please, and close the door." She does not appear upset by anything, but that does not stop him from worrying as he takes a cautious seat in one of the visitor chairs in front of her desk.

"Have I done something wrong?" he asks, unable to hide the worry in his voice.

"Oh, no, no, exactly the opposite actually. When we first interviewed you, you expressed a desire to pursue academic librarianship as a career. I was wondering if that desire had changed at all, now that you've been working in an academic library for more than a year?"

Castiel shakes his head, still confused. "No, working here has only helped to reaffirm my wish to work in this field."

"Excellent! I am very pleased to hear it. I don't know if you've been made aware that Adam is leaving to pursue a research position at the hospital, beginning at the winter holidays?"

"I did not know that. I will have to give him my congratulations."

"Yes, he's very excited. His leaving, though, will leave a gap in our Circulation staff. I was thinking that you might want to take over his position. You have proven yourself to be an intelligent, reliable employee, and I am certain you would be able to fulfill the required duties with the proper training. It would mean an increase in hours, though, as well as a slight increase in pay."

Castiel resisted the urge to jump up and down like an idiot in jubilation. He had been expecting a reprimand, and instead was being offered a promotion! He did his best to tone down his enthusiasm as he gave his answer. "Thank you. This is an incredible compliment to my abilities. Yes, I would love the opportunity to become a circulation clerk." There, he only sounded a little bit like a complete idiot.

"Oh good, I was hoping you would agree. Your training will start after finals are over, and then you will begin working the circ desk starting after the new year."

"Will I have access to the new schedule beforehand, so that I can adjust any courses I'm registered for in case there are conflicts?"

"Yes, definitely. I will get you a copy of the schedule as soon as I've figured it out. A few of the other clerks have requested shift changes, so I will be shifting everything around to accommodate them. I should have it done by the end of the week. Does that give you enough time to change anything if you need to?”

“Yes, that should be fine. Thank you very much for this opportunity. I know you won’t regret giving it to me.”

“I know I won’t, either. You’re an excellent employee, Castiel, and I know you’ll be an excellent librarian some day. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I won’t. Thank you, again.” He stands up, sensing his dismissal, and holds his hand out to her. Margot stands up to shake it, smiling at him in a proud way that reminds him vaguely of his mother. He says goodbye and slips out, unable to hold back his grin as soon as his back is to the open doorway. He wheels his cart back to the cart depot and finds another, already planning the chain of phone calls he will have to make as soon as he’s done with his shift.

-

“ _Dude, Cas, have you seen Doctor Sexy, M. D. yet? I caught the tail-end of an episode last week, and dude, I’m_ hooked.” This is what greets Castiel as he answers his phone one Thursday evening a few weeks before Christmas. The enthusiasm in Dean’s voice is unsurprising—Castiel has found that Dean is frequently excited about pop culture—but what a ‘Dr. Sexy, M.D.’ is Castiel can only begin to fathom.

“I am unfamiliar with this Dr. Sexy. Is it a comic book?” he asks, shifting the phone from his right to his left ear as he turns the stove on and begins heating water for pasta. Neil wanders into the kitchen behind him and buries his fluffy head in the fridge.

“ _It’s a tv show. Seriously, Cas, how are you still not watching tv? Don’t you have one in the apartment?_ ”

“Yes, Avery has a television in the living room, but I rarely watch it. Nothing I’ve watched with Avery or Neil seemed particularly interesting.”

“ _Well, I think you’ll like it. Avery probably only watches MTV, and everything Neil likes is stupid anyway. Dr. Sexy is awesome. Dr. Palmer is the main character, and he’s hot—not as hot as you, but you know, close. He wears cowboy boots, and he has sex with all these hot lady doctors and nurses all over the hospital. It’s totally hot. I’m gonna bring it over the next time I’m in town, and we’re watching._ ”

“If it means that I will get to see you, I can agree to those terms. I doubt that I will pay attention to the show, though.”

“ _Dude, were you listening? It’s awesome._ ”

Castiel smiles to himself. “Yes, your description was compelling. However, you bringing the show here will mean that you are here, in which case I will be far too busy getting you naked and distracting you with fellatio to bother paying attention.”

“ _DUDE!_ ” Neil snaps in protest, head whipping out from behind the open refrigerator door.

Castiel gives him a disinterested eyebrow raise. He can hear Dean sputtering on the other end. “If you do not like what you hear, then perhaps you should not eavesdrop on other people’s phone conversations, hmm?” he says to Neil.

“Kinda hard not to listen when we’re in the same room, dude.”

“Go away or you get no spaghetti,” Castiel says, shooing his roommate away with the wet wooden spoon. Neil walks away pouting, and Castiel is left with a satisfying smirk, a pot of boiling water, and a boyfriend blustering into his ear. “What were we talking about, again?” Castiel prompts as he dumps a box of noodles into the water, stepping back quickly to avoid being burned by the splash.

“ _I don’t remember. I’m still thinking about you uh… doing that thing you just said._ ” His tone indicates that Sam must be in the room, a fact that makes Cas smile. He enjoys teasing Dean when he cannot relieve himself or reciprocate.

“Sucking your cock, you mean? I can describe it if you’d like. I’d get on my knees on the floor in front of you and use my hands to open up your fly, and then I’d…”

“ _Cas, Jesus, Sammy’s in the room._ ”

“I apologize. Was I making you uncomfortable by describing how I would lick your hard cock until it was nice and wet before shoving it all the way down my throat?” He had to hold back a laugh at the strained grunt Dean let out.

“ _Great, now I’ve got a boner. Not cool. I’m hanging up on you now_.”

“But, Dean, I was merely trying to describe to you how I would worship your big, hard—”

“ _Thanks, yeah, I got it. Talk to you later_.” The definitive click of the other end of the line made Cas cackle like a demented hyena until Avery wandered into the room to check that he was okay.

-

Castiel had thought when he brought his car to school that he would use it to drive home more regularly, but life—and more inconveniently the increase in difficulty of his classes—had gotten in his way, and this is only his second visit home of the semester. Claire and Amelia are standing on the porch when he pulls up to the house, Claire bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. “Castiel!” she shouts as she rushes down the porch steps as soon as their mother gives her the okay. Castiel has not even finished opening the door before he has an armful of five-year-old. He might have seen her last month, but he is still having trouble adjusting to how tall she had gotten, her eyes now just shy of reaching his car door window. “I’m so excited you’re home, Castiel!”

“I am, as well. It’s good to see you, Bear. Can you let me out of the car, though, so I can hug you for real?” he asks, struggling to swing his legs out from under the wheel to pry himself out of the car. Claire doesn’t do much to help, but eventually he is out and picking up all thirty-five pounds of his littlest sister. She squeezes him tight with arms and legs wrapped around him and kisses his cheeks with sticky lips. “Drinking too much juice again, I see. How are you, Bear?” he asks, squeezing her back. She starts telling him all about learning to read her first book, of which he is extremely proud, as he closes his car door and walks up to the house.

Their mother is waiting for them with a warm hug and a kiss to his cheek as well. “Welcome home, baby. Were the roads alright?” she asks.

Castiel drops his little sister to his feet to give his mother a better hug, all his muscles relaxing under her comforting embrace. “The drive was uneventful. I’m glad to be home.”

“We’re glad you’re home, too. Come inside. I have hot cocoa for you, and we made cookies. I’ll send your brothers out for your things. Did you bring your laundry?”

“Yes, I hope that’s alright. The machines downstairs are expensive and sometimes leave an orange film on my clothes.”

“Sweetie, if it meant you came home more often, I’d let you bring your laundry home every weekend.”

Castiel pulls away from his mother’s arms with a wince. “I’m sorry I’ve visited so infrequently. My classes are much more difficult this semester, and I have had to spend a great deal more time studying.”

“It’s okay, sweetie, we’re just happy to see you. And you’re staying for over a week, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I don’t have to go back until after New Years.”

“Excellent. Come inside, it’s getting cold. Come along, Claire. Thomas, Phillip, come get your brothers things from his car!” she calls into the house as she leads Castiel inside, Claire trailing behind them.

“Don’t shake the presents!” Castiel calls after them as his brothers run past with mischievous smirks and barely a hello. Within ten minutes, he is ensconced in the kitchen with a cup of hot cocoa, and it is as though he had never left.

Three days later, he is curled up on the couch in the living room, telling Dean about his Christmas plans. It is well past the time everyone else has gone to bed, and so the Christmas tree is his only light. “My sister’ is back from Georgetown. She just got in this morning. She’s cut her hair very short and lost quite a bit of weight. I almost didn’t recognize her at first,” he says, remembering his first shock at seeing Christine so changed. She’d been wearing make-up—something their father had never permitted her to do while at home—and the dark eye eyeliner alone had completely changed the shape of her face. Combined with the weight loss and the haircut, he’d had to do a double-take.

“ _Is she hot?_ ”

“Dean! She’s my sister. I might as well ask you if Sam is attractive.”

“ _He isn’t. You know that, you’ve seen him. He’s goofy looking._ ”

“Not the point. I’m not telling you if my sister is ‘hot’. I don’t even like that word.”

“ _You like it when I call you hot_.”

“I like it when you call me a lot of things,” Cas answers, pulling at a loose string on his pajamas pants with a faint blush.

“ _Yeah? Like what?_ ”

Cas sighs in exasperation and shakes his head. “We’re not doing this here, Dean. My family may be asleep, but they’re still in the house.”

_“Never stopped you with Neil or Avery._ ”

“Neither Neil nor Avery are particularly religious, and they both know about our relationship. Do you remember when I said you couldn’t kiss me in my family’s house? This counts.”

_“You’re no fun. So, I don’t get to make you cum for the whole time you’re home?_ ”

The blush is for a very different reason now, and Castiel has to squirm in his seat to adjust for his beginning arousal. “Dean, stop.”

There is a quiet chuckle on the other end. “ _Okay, Captain, whatever you say._ ”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

“ _Nothing, we don’t do Christmas._ ”

“What, no Christmas? Why not?”

“ _No point? We’re not religious, and it’s not like we can fit a Christmas tree in a motel room. We used to do it when Sam and I were little, when we could afford it. Man, Dad brought home this beer can wreath one year that was awesome! But now it’s kinda pointless._ ”

“Beer can wreath? Sounds… charming…”

Dean laughs. “ _You would have hated it, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever_. _I wonder if I could find another one of those… Sammy’d probably think it was cool._ ”

Somehow Castiel doubts it, but he lets Dean keep talking as he yawns and rests his head on the arm of the couch. Dean’s voice 9s like a soothing ocean breeze, perfect for lulling him to sleep. He only wishes Dean were here to hold him as he talked.

“ _You still with me, babe?_ ” he hears Dean ask. He blinks, finding that he had dropped off momentarily.

“I apologize. My brothers woke me up rather early this morning to help them muck out the chicken coup. I’m unused to the physical labor.”

“ _Should I just call you tomorrow?_ ”

“No, I like listening to your voice. It’s soothing.”

“ _Soothing, huh? You_ must _be tired. I’m letting you go. Go to bed. Give Claire-bear a hug for me._ ”

“I will, though I don’t know if she still remembers you. Can I call you tomorrow?”

_“Aren’t you gonna be busy doing whatever people do on Christmas Eve_?”

“Yes, but I always have time for you. I might even be able to find time to take the car into town and find a nice quiet back-alley to call you from. As an early present.”

Dean’s groan of appreciation is just what Castiel was hoping for. “ _That sounds so dirty I think I need a shower. I can’t wait._ ”

“Good. Sleep well.”

“ _Night, babe._ ” Castiel ends the call with a satisfied smile and strokes the phone with his thumb. His eyes shoot to the doorway at the sound of a creaking floorboard. His stomach drops into his lap. His older sister is leaning against the doorway.

“Who’s Dean?” Christine asks, an eyebrow raised.

Castiel sits up and pushes the phone into his pajamas pocket as if to hide the evidence. “Christine, I didn’t… see you there. Is anyone else still up?”

“Nope. I was just getting a glass of water and heard you talking. So, who’s Dean?” she asks again, walking over and sitting next to him on the couch and pulling her legs up to sit criss-cross facing him.

“Dean’s my…” He hesitates, not sure he should admit this, even to his sister. She had accepted his coming out, but telling someone you’re gay is much different than telling them you’re sleeping with another man. He looks down at his pajamas. “Dean’s my boyfriend.”

“You’ve got a boyfriend? Congratulations! Where did you meet him? How long have you been dating? What’s he like? Tell me everything,” Christine insists, grinning at him. He’s taken aback by her enthusiasm.

“You’re not uncomfortable with my dating another man?”

“Cas, you told me you were gay like four years ago. Besides being a little surprised it took you this long, I don’t see anything wrong with it. Now give me all the details.”

“Okay…” He thought about it, not sure where he should start. He’d been hiding his relationship with Dean from his family for so long. While this wasn’t like telling his parents, it was still a little daunting. “Well, I met Dean at school. Uh, well, not college. High school. He and his brother transfered to Truman High during Dean and I’s senior year.”

“You’ve known this guy for three years?!”

“Yes?”

“And you didn’t tell me? What the hell? I tell you everything!”

“Everything?” Castiel raises his eyebrows, skeptical.

“Okay, so I didn’t tell you about losing my virginity right away. Sorry. Back to Dean. You haven’t been dating him this whole time, have you?”

“Sort of? Dean’s family moves around a lot. In fact, they were only at Truman High for a little over a month before they moved. Dean and I agreed to have an open long-distance relationship.”

“You’re in an ‘open relationship’? What does that mean?”

“While Dean is away, we are both free to pursue any physical relationships we so desire. When we are together, we are exclusively each other’s. We have also promised to remain emotionally faithful to one another. Neither of us is allowed to pursue a relationship that could somehow emotionally compromise our own relationship. It’s worked out well so far.”

“Wait, so you’re allowed to have sex with other guys when he’s not around, as long as they don’t buy you dinner first?” Christine looks dismayed by this.

“No, not exactly. My sexual activity has almost exclusively been experienced with Dean, and I am still a virgin to partnered penetrative sex. Dean does it, I believe, with women. We have a rule against talking about it with each other, so I do not know for a fact. He does frequently pick women up at bars, though, I know.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Not as such, but Dean is in a far more difficult situation than I am. Dean’s father is as opposed to homosexuality as our family is, if not more. They live in close quarters due to their frequent moves, and he already suspects our relationship. Dean sleeps with women to appease his father so that he does not lash out. To be honest, I believe he’s an abusive alcoholic, but I’ve never quite been able to come out and ask Dean about it. There have been… incidents, though, enough that I can content myself with the situation as long as it means that Dean is safe.”

Christine still looks skeptical. “If his dad is such an asshole, why doesn’t he just leave?”

“Dean does not wish to leave his younger brother, Sam. He is very protective of his brother. He often gets in the way of their father to protect Sam. I have suggested in the past that they both leave, but Dean is loyal to his father despite the abuse.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense, Cas.”

“It does, actually. Abused children are often loyal to their abusive parent. They are manipulated into believing the abuse is done out of love. They are often also, as I believe is true in Dean’s case, taught to believe that the only love they are worthy of receiving is that of abuse. Dean does a lot of posturing and prides himself on being perceived as self-confident and strong, but underneath he is deeply self-loathing. I’ve done a lot of research on the topic, in order to try to help him, but he’s very good at deflecting.”

This revelation must be too much for Christine to comprehend because her eyes widen comically, and she starts to shake her head as though to clear it. “Cas, I gotta say, this sounds like a huge mess. Is it really worth it to go through this for a guy? Haven’t you met anyone… less complicated at school?”

Castiel frowns, not understanding. “I don’t want to date anyone ‘less complicated’. I love Dean. I wouldn’t care if his father was a serial killer. I want to be with him. I’ve tried dating other people, but no one makes me feel the way Dean does.”

“You love him? As in with a capital L?”

“I do not understand what the capitalization of the word has to do with it’s emotional intent, but if you are asking me if I am in love with him, then yes, I love him ‘with a capital L’.” He uses finger quotations, which he knows annoys Christine to no end, but she appears to be too distracted by what he has said to notice.

She takes a deep breath, expression telling Castiel that she hadn’t been expecting that. “Okay. I’m going to go make hot cocoa for us, and then you are going to tell me everything about him. I want to know what makes this guy worthy of you.” She narrows her eyes, but her lips have curved into a smile so that it isn’t intimidating. “Assuming he is, that is. Come on.” Castiel trails after her into the kitchen, where they heat milk over the stove and scuffle over the best recipe for cocoa and whether or not marshmallows are appropriate. The light squabbling puts Cas at ease, reassuring him that his sister accepts what he has told her about Dean. When they finally return to the family room and settle on the couch, the conversation is more open and friendly, and Castiel has no problem cataloging all the wonderful parts of Dean without feeling judged. It is a nice release. Talking to Avery about Dean has always been nice, but Avery has never had the understanding of his upbringing that Christine does. And there is something that must be said for being able to unburden himself with at least one of his family members. He might not be ready to come out to his parents, but Christine’s easy acceptance of him settles a nervous fluttering in his stomach that he hadn’t even realized was there.


	8. Confrontation and Consternation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean crosses a line no one ever thought he'd cross, and gets a weekend with Cas to show for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for homophobic language. Also, John Winchester's a dick.
> 
> Also, thank you to for betaing for me, deanstrenchcoatangel, even though you've never done it before! You did a great job!

“Sam’s my height now, Cas. What the hell?”

“ _He hasn’t finished puberty yet, Dean. Growing taller is known to happen to teenage boys. I have a cousin who grew six inches overnight. It made getting dressed the next morning awkward, I’m told._ ”

“Yeah, but it’s Sammy. How is he supposed to be my little brother if he’s taller than I am? And the way he’s eating, he’s already working on another stretch.”

“ _I’m sure you’ll figure it out._ ”

Dean picks at the edge of his boot and grumbles into the phone, “What if I don’t want to figure it out? What if I want him to stay my little brother forever?”

“ _That’s not how life works, and you know it_.” They’re quiet for a minute while Dean systematically pulls every rock out of his boot and tries not to think about his little brother growing up. “ _I suppose this would not be the time to tell you that I myself have grown several inches, as well._ ”

“Yeah? You’re not gonna tower over me, too, are you? I sort of like it when you’re all short and pushy.” He smiles to himself just thinking about it.

“ _I believe I am still an inch or two below you, but not much more_ ,” Castiel answers, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“God, I wish I could come and see you.”

“ _You could. You could just get in your car and drive here. It’s only a few hundred miles, right? You could be here by tonight._ ”

“I want to, believe me, but I can’t. Sammy’s got school, and I’ve still got a job to do.”

“ _Sam is nearly seventeen. He can be by himself for a weekend. I’m not asking you to move here, just a weekend. I’m tired of imagining what it feels like to kiss you. I’m starting to forget_.”

Dean’s stomach drops. God, he wishes he could, but Dad’s been pissy ever since Sam brought up college last week, and Dean doesn’t want to test him by bringing up a visit to Chicago. “Cas… I can’t. I gotta work.”

He hears a loud sigh at the other end of the phone. “ _I don’t suppose you could get off for a few days? I’m sorry if I’m pushing, but I hate knowing you’re so close, and I can’t see you. I’d drive down myself, but I’m scheduled to work tomorrow morning, and I know I’ll never get anyone to switch with me._ ”

“Maybe I’ll try to get up there when I’m finished with the job, but it’s not really something I can just… take off from. I’m sorry, babe. I wanna see you, too. I’ll talk to Sammy and Dad.”

“ _Thank you, that’s all I ask. I miss you._ ”

“Yeah, uh, me too,” Dean murmurs, watching as his dad slumps into the room with a pizza box and a stack of xeroxes Dean knows must be the from the lore book Pastor Jim faxed over. “Hey, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“ _Okay. You aren’t… mad at me, are you? For being so pushy? I just miss you._ ”

Dean scrubs at his hair, wanting to say more than he knows he can with his father giving him the impatient side-eye. He turns away, lowering his voice, praying to whatever deity will listen that the tv’s too loud for John to hear. “I’m not mad. My dad just got in. I’ll call you tomorrow. And I’ll talk to him about that…thing.”

“ _Thank you, Dean. Sleep well_.”

“You, too. Night.” He hangs up with a hard press to the END button and dallies before turning around. The look he’s greeted with isn’t great.

“Talking to that boy again?”

“Yeah, I uh… I was thinking of maybe driving up this weekend. We’re gonna be here for another week at least, right?”

“Oh, you’re just gonna leave me in the middle of a hunt to go fag around, huh?”

Dean holsd back his sigh. “Dad, I told you…”

“Yeah, I heard you. Don’t mean I believe you. But fine, go do whatever you faggots do up there. I’ll just save this family all by myself.” His words came out bitter and biting and made a lump of wrongness fill Dean’s stomach.

“Okay, I will. It’s not like you’ve ever needed me on a hunt, anyway. Didn’t you say last week I hold you back? I’ll just get out of your way, then.” Dean knows he’s being stupid. He’s gonna get his ass kicked, but something’s snapped in his mind, and he can’t take it anymore. He’s done everything his dad’s ever asked of him, and all he’s asking for is a weekend. He starts shoving clothes into his duffel without another word, but inside, he’s tearing down walls, cutting the heads off monsters, beating the hell out of anything that stands still for too long.

John watches him silently, glaring what would probably be a painful death, had he been telekinetic. Dean does everything he can to ignore it, because this is the line he has drawn in the sand, and he’s not crossing into submission. Not today. There’s a hole in his gut with Cas’ name on it, and he can’t stand to let it get any bigger. He finishes shoving the last t-shirt into the bag and is pulling the string closed with more violence than necessary when Sammy walks in from his tutor job.

Sam stiffens, sensing the tension immediately. His eyes lock with Dean’s and fill with surprise when he catches sight of the duffel swung over Dean’s shoulder. “Are we leaving? I thought you didn’t know who the ghost was yet, Dad. I’ve got midterms.”

“We’re not going anywhere, son. Dean’s taking a trip up to the Chicago to see his little boyfriend, aren’t you, Dean?” Dean clenches his jaw and nods, letting the boyfriend part go. He is fighting a bigger battle than quibbles over terminology.

“Oh… uh… tell Cas I said hi,” Sam says, voice trailing off lamely. He looks as uncomfortable with the situation as Dean feels.

“I’ll be back Monday,” is all Dean says as he brushes past his brother, giving his father a wide berth. He slams the door behind him, but it doesn’t leave him as satisfied as he would have hoped.

-

Dean’s still pissed off when he gets into the city, despite four hours of driving to cool him down. He decides to pick up a deep-dish before he gets to Cas’. He hopes the prospect of delicious pizza and a weekend with Cas will brighten his mood. The spicy smell of tomato sauce and sausage and onions makes him hate the world just a little less as he finally finds a spot two blocks down from Cas’ apartment. He grabs his duffel and the pizza box and hikes it the couple blocks. It’s Neil’s wary voice that meets him when he buzzes.

“Pizza delivery for a Castiel,” Dean says, hoping for the element of surprise.

“Cas, you order pizza? Kinda late, isn't it?” he hears Neil shout. He hears a muffled ‘no’ from further in the apartment, but thankfully another resident is leaving, and he’s able to slip in the front door. He hears Cas arguing as he knocks on the door and has to grin at the annoyed tinge to his voice as the door opens to reveal the pinched face of his ruffled, pajamas-clad boyfriend. Cas stares at Dean for a full thirty seconds when he lays eyes on him, a look of shock on his face, before he squeaks adorably and tackles Dean against the hallway wall in a sloppy, teeth-clattering kiss. Dean only just keeps his hold on the pizza box as he wraps his arms around Cas’ waist and smooths out the kiss, stroking Cas’ bottom lip with his tongue until Cas moans and melts into him.

“What the hell is going on, Cas—” Neil asks, but he cuts himself off. Dean sees him out of the corner of his eye, standing dumbfounded in the doorway as he watches his roommate making out with the pizza guy. Dean finds himself laughing, most of the rest of his anger and frustration melting away as Cas strokes his hair. It isn’t until they’ve pulled apart a few inches to look into each other’s eyes once again that Dean notices that Cas hadn’t been lying. He is taller, only an inch or so shorter than Dean now. Dean wonders if he’ll still be able to pick Cas up and walk him around. Even if he ends up injured, he fully intends to try as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

“You came,” Cas whispers, looking up at him like he’s the Eighth Wonder of the World.

“Yeah. How could I resist when you made such good points? Besides, I couldn’t let you forget what it feels like to kiss me, could I?”

"Of course not. It's just as good as I remembered, in case you're wondering. Come inside." He pulls away further, noticing the pizza box finally and taking it from Dean. "You brought me pizza, too? This is like Christmas all over again. Are there onions?" he asks as he leads Dean into the apartment, ignoring Neil jumping out of his way.

"Course, I'm not crazy," Dean answers as he follows, nodding at Neil as he passes him.

Cas beams at him over his shoulder. He deposits the pizza on the coffee table and takes Dean's duffel from him. "Get comfortable. I'll drop this in my room and get plates, and be back in a moment." He leans up to kiss Dean once more, pulling away with a silly grin and a gleam in his eye like he can't believe Dean is real and disappears down the hallway.

Dean is left with Neil until Cas comes back, but neither of them say anything. He might talk to Avery regularly, but he's only ever really talked to Neil once, the night they hung out when Cas was still in the dorms. Neil finally nods awkwardly and goes to hide in his room with a gruff, "Good to see you, man."

Dean is left alone until Cas comes bustling back into the room, still grinning. He still looks like he thinks Dean might disappear any second now. "Take a seat. I'll give you a tour after pizza. Or maybe in the morning. How long can you stay?" he asks.

"I told them I'd be back on Monday," Dean answers. He pulls his coat off and takes a seat on the couch, watching Cas go into the kitchen and riffle through cabinets until he has plates, napkins, silverware, and two beers. Dean feels a little less uncomfortable with Cas in the room, and it's even better when Cas sits on the couch, next to him but nearly in his lap. He helps Cas get their pizza dished out and gulps a large drink of beer before he can let himself relax.

Cas angles his body to face Dean on the couch, pulling his legs up and using them as a table for his plate. He's still grinning. "I can't believe you're here. How did you get the time off?"

“I uh…” Dean frowns down at his pizza, completely at a loss as to how to answer him. He’s been caught in a lie, but it isn’t one he can exactly come clean about. He might be pissed at his dad, but that doesn’t mean he’s pissed enough to break Rule #1, even for Cas. “I quit,” is what he manages to say. It sounds lame and forced to his ears, but Cas only looks a little surprised and dismayed.

“You did?”

“Yeah, I uh… I’d only been working there a few days. Not like they were gunning to give me health insurance or anything. I’ll get another one,” he says, trying to brush it off.

“Dean, when I said I wanted you to come here, I didn’t mean for you to sacrifice your financial stability to do it. What if you can’t find another job?”

Dean snorts into his beer. “There’s always another job, believe me.” The stricken look on Cas’ face calms his momentary annoyance with his life and brings him back to the present. He settles a hand over Cas’ shoulder and pulls him in for a kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’d much rather be here, anyway.”

That seems to settle Cas, who shuffles around so that he could burrow into Dean’s side, careful not to jostle his plate. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me, too, baby. Me, too.” Dean brushes his lips against Cas’ temple and wraps an arm around him. It’s only as he starts to eat that he realizes his mistake. The crust is so dense, it’s nearly impossible to cut one-handed with a fork, and picking the slice up covered in a full inch of sauce isn’t really an option. Cas solves the dilemma for him by bringing a cut portion of his own slice to Dean’s lips. This would normally be the part where Dean squirms away and declares the Lifetime movie shit over, but he’s in a weird kind of mood tonight, and it’s kind of nice to have Cas mothering him. He opens his mouth and takes the bite, rolling his eyes back with an appreciative moan at the burst of spicy deliciousness that floods his mouth. He notes the slight curl of a smile on Cas’ lips and doesn’t reject the second offering.

They eat their way through two slices a piece that way, and Dean is feeling full and happy by the time the fourth slice is gone. Cas leans over the coffee table to close the box and set their plates and silverware on top of it before settling back against Dean again, his head resting on Dean’s chest. “That was delicious. Thank you, Dean.”

“No need to thank me. Though if you really wanted to, there is something you could do to show your appreciation of my awesomeness.”

“Oh?” Cas asks with a coy cock of his head.

“Mhmm,” Dean hums into Cas’ neck, flicking his tongue out to taste his soft skin. He smells clean and fresh and a little like apples, and Dean can’t help but suck a mark onto him. Cas lets out a low whine, fingers reaching up to bury themselves deep into Dean’s hair, tugging him closer. Dean pulls him back onto his lap, flush against the growing bulge in his jeans, and Cas wriggles against him, sending sparks up his spine. Cas turns his head to capture Dean’s lips in a filthy kiss as he continues to rock back on Dean’s clothed cock. Dean slides his hands around Cas’ waist and below the front tie of his pajamas, pleased to find him commando and just beginning to leak. He caresses down Cas’ shaft, enjoying the tiny shivers it evokes, letting his fingers trail further down to cup first one and then the other of Cas’ balls, rolling them between his hands without much pressure. Little gasps start to escape the kiss, and Cas becomes impossibly hard, his rocking increasing in speed as Dean traces along his skin.

Cas finally grows impatient and pulls abruptly away, standing and taking Dean’s hand, pulling him up without much effort. He takes Dean’s mouth once more for a wet, thorough kiss, then pulls away with that Look. “Put the pizza in the refrigerator and wash the dishes, then meet me in my room. It’s the second door on the left,” he instructs in a voice that brooks no argument. Dean is still gathering himself from the puddle the voice has left of his senses when Cas disappears down the hall with a final scorching look over his shoulder. Dean has the pizza in the fridge and the dishes running under hot water in less than a minute. He quickly washes them and places them in the drying rack, not even waiting to make sure the second plate isn’t going to topple over before he’s down the hall and slipping into Cas’ bedroom.

He finds Cas sprawled out atop the coverlet, naked and slowly stroking himself while his eyes follow Dean’s progress to the bed. “Take your clothes off,” he orders just as Dean is kneeling onto the mattress. Dean’s shirt is over his head immediately. He nearly falls over in his haste to get his boots off. Cas laughs at him, delight dancing in his lust-blown eyes. Dean fumbles with his jeans, cursing as his foot gets stuck in one leg and refuses to come off. Pulling at it causes him to topple face-first into the mattress, much to Cas’ amusement. He would die of embarrassment, but Cas is curled over his back, brushing kisses to his neck as he reaches over the bed to free Dean. “Smooth, Winchester, very smooth,” he needles with a grin as Dean crowds him back onto his back and crawls over him.

“Shuddup,” Dean mutters as he leans down to shut him up himself. Cas does, letting his hands do his talking for him. The blunt nails trailing down Dean’s back feel amazing, as does the squeeze to his ass cheek. Dean drags his mouth over Cas’ chin and begins south, sucking hickeys into Cas’ chest and stomach until he finally reaches the coarse hair circling Cas’ shaft. He noses into the short hairs, tugging a little at them with his teeth. Cas makes a soft sound above him, stroking his hair. Dean takes his time licking up the shaft, teasing, until Cas growls in frustration and yanks his hair back, glaring.

“Stop teasing,” he hisses. Dean chuckles at his expression, but complies with the order, dipping his head down to suck at Cas’ head. Cas hums in pleasure and loosens his hold on Dean’s hair, gently guiding him down further. Dean sucks him down, letting Cas guide his movements. “You look so good sucking my cock,” Cas rasps, and Dean looks up to meet his eyes with a grin around his shaft. Cas groans, twisting around so that he can reach Dean’s hips and drag him around.

Dean scoots where he’s being led and pulls off Cas for a second in surprise when Cas’ lips wrap around the head of his own erection a moment later. “We’re 69ing it now, huh? Kinky,” he comments, looking down his body to watch Cas take him down as far as he can. It feels amazing, but it’s even hotter to watch. A sharp smack to Dean’s ass gets him focused again on making Cas cum. He palms Cas’ balls, massaging them until Cas is thrusting into his mouth with muffled moans. He moves lower, stroking his perineum before brushing his thumb over Cas’ hole. He dips in dry, prodding curiously. Cas makes an appreciative noise, encouraging Dean. Dean manages to get the finger in to his second knuckle, but he can’t imagine it feels as good as lube would. He pulls away again, swallowing a gulp of air before speaking. “Where’s the lube?”

Cas doesn’t even stop sucking him as he reaches over to the bedside table and opens a drawer and tosses the bottle to Dean. Dean flips the lid open and covers his fingers in lube. He settles back into sucking Cas off and slathering lube over his hole. The finger goes in much easier the second time, and is quickly followed by another. Cas is practically a puddle at his feet after a few minutes of careful stroking of his prostate. Dean isn’t surprised when the first spurt of hot liquid hits the back of his throat. He does his best not to choke as he pulls back to suckle the head, swallowing the whole of it down and lapping at the slit to catch the extra. Cas pulls off his dick with a sigh, stroking it slowly as he catches his breath. Dean watches him with a warm sort of pride in his chest. He put that flush on Cas’ cheeks. He drove him crazy with pleasure.

Cas looks down at him with a satisfied smile. “You’re turn,” he says, pulling away and sitting up. He pats the pillows next to him. It’s all the instruction Dean needs to stretch out next to him, getting comfortable in what has to be the softest bed he has ever had the pleasure of laying on. Cas leans over him for a kiss, his tongue snaking out to search out the cum in Dean’s mouth. When he pulls away, it’s with a calculating look. “What should I do with you to reward you for such an excellent orgasm?” Dean smirks, but doesn’t say anything. Pretty much anything Cas could do to him would be good with him.

Cas strokes a finger down his pelvis, curtailing his dick, nudging his legs wider so that he can settle between them on his stomach. He begins to suck him again, taking him as deep as he can, encouraging Dean to thrust up into his mouth with a squeeze of his hip. Dean lets his head fall back, relaxing into the pleasure of having Cas’ hot mouth around him. He barely even notices the first prod of a finger, and only really registers that Cas has two in him when he starts massaging his prostate. Dean sees stars, his toes curling so tight it’s painful. He has to fight not to squeeze Cas’ head between his thighs as he thrusts down on Cas’ fingers. There aren’t words for how phenomenal it feels. Dean would be embarrassed for how quickly he comes from those fingers if Cas hadn’t already been blowing him for a good fifteen minutes beforehand.

Cas pulls off to let him cum all over his face. It’s messy and filthy and so fucking hot. Cas grins up at him, a little smug. Dean shakes his head, snorting, and pulls Cas up to kiss him. Cas doesn’t even need to tell him to before he is lapping up the cum from Cas’ cheeks and forehead, his eyelashes. Cas is practically purring by the time he is done. The lube is deposited back in the bedside table, and they crawl under the covers together, laying down on their sides. Cas buries his face in Dean’s chest, curling into him. Dean holds him close, kissing his forehead. “Was that okay?” Cas asks quietly.

“That was fucking awesome. Was it good for you?”

“Mmm, very good. Can we do it again tomorrow night?”

“We can do it again in ten minutes if you want.”

“I have work in the morning.” He shifts his head to look over Dean at the bedside clock. “The alarm will go off in three hours. I hope you don’t mind.”

“’S fine.”

“What are you going to do tomorrow?”

“I’ll figure something out. When do you get off?”

“Four. Maybe we could go to dinner tomorrow night?”

“Sure. How about I pick you up from work?”

“That would be lovely.”

“’Kay. Shouldn’t you be going to sleep now?”

“Yes. Good night.”

“’Night.” Dean falls asleep with his mind blissfully blank of everything that isn’t Cas.

-

Cas is grumpier than normal this morning, probably due to the lack of sleep. He grumbles through breakfast and a shower, and only loses some of his foul mood when Dean offers to help him dry his hair and gives him a scalp massage. Dean sends him out the door with an extra thorough kiss and a pat to his ass, and he spies a faint upward curve to Cas’ lips as he turns in the elevator. When Dean gets back into the apartment, Avery is just coming out of her room, yawning big and peering at him like she can’t make him out without her glasses on or something. “Dean?” she asks through a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Hey, there, sunshine. Late night last night?”

“Mmm, have a twenty-page research paper due Monday. Cas didn’t say you were coming.” She stretches her arms high above her head until her t-shirt no longer covers her stomach and stretches back much further than Dean himself could do. He might think she was trying to show off to him if she didn’t look so tired. He doesn’t say anything about it.

“I surprised him last night. We were working in Indiana, thought I’d come up for the weekend.”

Avery regards him with a skeptical look, but thankfully only shrugs and heads into the kitchen. “Did you get breakfast yet?” she asks over her shoulder. “Cas doesn’t usually eat breakfast on days he works.”

“Not yet. You gonna make me some?” he asks, following her into the kitchen. They end up making omelets together, Dean cutting up the vegetables while Avery does the actual cooking. Neil stumbles in sometime in the middle of cooking, eats, and wanders back into his room without offering to do the dishes. Avery acts as though this is normal, and they clean up together while chatting amiably. Avery is hilarious, and her hook-up stories could rival Dean’s. Dean tells her a few of his own—heavily edited—stories, conscious that she is Cas’ best friend and could easily relay anything he tells her back to Cas. Once the kitchen is clean, they spend the rest of the morning curled up on either end of the couch watching Saturday morning cartoons. It’s only as two creeps up that Dean mentions that he has to shower so he can go pick up Cas at work.

Avery gives him a calculating look over her fifth cup of coffee. “You guys doing anything tonight?”

“We were gonna grab dinner, but no other plans. Why?”

“You should take him on a date. Like a real date. Buy him flowers, too. I think he’d like that. There’s a show a couple of friends of mine are playing over at this bar on Harper. They’re good, and they play rock music. Cas said you like that.”

“Classic rock, yeah. You think he’d be into that? Going on a real date?”

Avery smiles and nods. “Oh yeah, I think he’d love it. Might even give you that v-card he’s been holding on so hard to.”

Dean frowns, but shakes his head. “Not really what I’m angling for, but thanks.” He looks down at himself, ratty sweatpants and hole-covered Zeppelin shirt and gets up. “Better shower for real then, if I’m taking him out on a date. Mind writing down the directions to that bar while I’m gone?”

Avery nods with a grin and pulls her feet out of the way as he passes. Twenty minutes later he’s showered, and much more thoroughly clean than he’s ever been before. It feels a little weird, being stretched like that, but barring some sort of natural disaster, he’s definitely getting laid tonight, and he’s planning on getting Cas to finger him again. If he plays his cards right, he might even get Cas to try one of those toys he’s always using when they phone fuck, and Dean doesn’t want the party to end because he isn’t clean. He dresses in his nicest jeans and button down (which really just means the ones with the fewest holes, and no visible stains), and is heading for the flower shop he saw three blocks down with twenty minutes to spare. He buys half-a-dozen roses, feeling weird buying them for another guy, and makes his way to the Regenstein where Cas works.

The security guard raises an eyebrow at the flowers, but lets him through without further comment. The Circulation Desk where Dean knows Cas works is right by the front door, but there’s no Cas standing behind any of the stations. Worried that maybe he got the time wrong, Dean is just walking over to one of the other clerks when he spots Cas coming around the corner, talking to an older woman who looks like she might be in charge. Dean quickly hides the flowers behind his back before Cas can get a glimpse of them and waits to be noticed. As though a magnet is pulling him towards Dean, Cas looks up an instant later and locks eyes on him. He smiles big and says a few words to the woman that look like a goodbye, then slips through the gate that blocks off the Circulation Desk and walks to Dean.

“I didn’t think you were serious when you said you’d pick me up,” Cas says as he approaches, his smile growing wider the closer he gets. Dean hadn’t been paying attention to how he dressed that morning, but he sees now that Cas has on a blue button-down with a black and white sweater vest over it, covered in a knitted pattern of dancing cats. It’s probably the weirdest thing Dean’s ever seen Cas wear, but the back part of his brain that houses his huge kink for all things nerdy doesn’t hesitate to remind him how hot Cas looks.

“So I wasn’t supposed to stand on the quad with a boombox above my head blaring Peter Gabriel until you came out?” Dean teases, smirking as Cas frowns at him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Dean huffs a laugh, shaking his head in amusement at Cas’ continued lack of pop culture knowledge. “I know you don’t. Here, I got you these.” He pulls the roses out from behind his back, and the look of shock and pleasure on Cas’ face is enough to make the ridiculous over-the-top gesture worth it. Cas takes them with reverence, touching them as though they will shatter with the slightest pressure, and noses at their fragrant petals.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, Dean. No one has ever given me flowers before,” he says, his nose still buried in their buds. When his eyes meet Dean’s again, there’s a layer of heat there that hadn’t been there before. Yeah, he’s definitely getting laid tonight. Cas reaches up to kiss his cheek and grabs onto his sleeve with his free hand, pulling Dean back past the wide-eyed security guard with a quiet ‘good night’ to the guy. Dean waves awkwardly over his shoulder, eyes focused on Cas and the way he keeps putting the roses up to his nose to sniff them every few steps.

They get outside and are half a block away from the building when Cas stops and turns to Dean and kisses him for real, the fingers of his free hand tangling into Dean’s hair. Dean wraps him up in his arms and kisses him back, only coming back to reality when he’s jostled hard from behind. He flicks the stranger off when he looks up to a vicious glare over some guy’s shoulder as he’s walking away. Cas blinks at the man, a tiny frown quirking the side of his mouth down.

“That was rude.”

“Don’t worry about it, babe. Where do you want to go to dinner?”

“Are we going to dinner?”

“Yeah? Is that okay? I thought we could grab food and maybe go to this show Avery told me about.”

“Show? Like a movie?”

“No, live music.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot that’s what Avery calls small-venued concerts.” The frown curls up into a tiny satisfied smile.

“So, sound good?” Dean prompts, squeezing Cas’ sides.

Cas cocks his head to the side, his smile growing. “Dean Winchester, are you suggesting we go on a date?”

“Yeah?” Dean hesitates, feeling a little stupid for even agreeing to this stupid idea.

“Of course, Dean. I think that sounds like a wonderful idea,” Cas assures him, his smile blooming into a full-out grin, eyes squinting in the sun. “Can we get burgers at the restaurant on Racine?”

“Yeah, anywhere you want. Come on, let’s go get the car.” He pulls away, indicating the direction of the apartment with a head nod. As Cas falls into step next to him, Dean has a silly, insane urge and because this entire thing is silly and insane, he goes with it. Cas’ hand is hot in his, like a mini-heater. They’ve never done this—held hands like this—and while it feels weird, it also feels kind of awesome. They make it to the apartment a few minutes later, and Cas goes upstairs to put the flowers in water while Dean pulls the car around.

When Cas comes back, he’s wearing the pink pants that make his ass look awesome and the cat vest is gone, replaced by his ever-present trench coat. Dean gets out of the car and goes around to open the door because he doesn’t do shit by halves. Cas rolls his eyes and pecks Dean’s cheek as he slides into the car. “Where’d the cat sweater go?” Dean asks as he gets back in the driver seat and pulls back onto the road from where he’d been double-parked.

“It wasn’t exactly sexy, Dean. You’re supposed to try to look sexy on a date, aren’t you?”

“Babe, you’re getting laid either way. I thought the cat sweater was kind of hot.” He gets a playful shove to his side and a derisive snort. “Those pants make me want to fuck you, though.” The comment earns him another shove, but the hand lands on his thigh after, so that’s good.

They eat dinner at a cool Fifties-style diner that has some of the best burgers Dean’s ever eaten, and Dean isn’t even embarrassed eating on the same side of the booth. Especially when Cas’ hand starts rubbing his thigh just shy of his crotch while he slurps at his milkshake. Dean’s wondering if it would be obvious if they went into the bathroom together just as the waitress brings the check, but by then Cas’ hands are back in his own lap, and he’s chatting amiably with the waitress while Dean pays. By the time they get back to campus and find a parking spot, it’s late enough to start heading to the bar where the show is. Dean makes sure Cas still has his fake, just in case, and doesn’t object when Cas laces his fingers through Dean’s as they walk.

The music is good, if a little more towards grunge than Dean’s tastes. He stands behind Cas with a beer in one hand and the other on Cas’ hip, occasionally dipping his head to yell something in Cas’ ear. Dean knows this isn’t Cas’ favorite music, but he smiles the whole time and rubs comfortably up against Dean. He’s got a couple of beers in Cas by the time the set’s over, which is always fun in Dean’s opinion.

Cas is already trying to stick his hands down Dean’s pants before they’ve made it a block, and he stops Dean another block down by shoving him into the doorway of a closed shop and kissing him. The force of the shove knocks the wind out of Dean, but he quickly recovers and pulls Cas close, squeezing his ass under the trench coat. Cas moans into his mouth and tries to burrow closer to him, but they’re already pressed flush. Dean pulls away after a few minutes of making out, having to hold Cas off him by his back belt loop. “Can we get back to the apartment before you start trying to take my clothes off? I’d love to go down on you here, but I already saw a cop patrolling once.”

“Kissing in public isn’t illegal, Dean,” Cas insists as he sucks hickeys down Dean’s neck without shame.

“Yeah, but unbuttoning someone’s jeans and giving them a tug job in the middle of the street is,” Dean points out, referring to the hand Cas is currently working into the zipper of Dean’s jeans. Cas’ hand freezes. He makes an unhappy sound and pulls away. Dean pushes the hair from his eyes and kisses his forehead before turning them and leading him in the direction of the apartment. Cas’ hands stay above the waist, but he almost runs into a tree while trying to suck Dean’s earlobe into his mouth, and Dean has to steer him out of dodge.

By the time they’re in the elevator, Dean’s so turned on he doesn’t object to being pushed against the back wall and kissed to within an inch of his life. The elevator dings, but Cas is still kissing him. He finally has to push Cas towards the doors just before they close, not breaking their kiss. They make it to the door and inside. Dean sees Neil out of the corner of his eye, looking as horrified as he was the night before at being presented with two dudes making out. Dean ignores him—not that he had much choice with Cas pulling him to the hall by the front of his shirt. Dean quickly finds himself in Cas’ room with the door closed. He doesn’t waste time stripping Cas down, letting his hands rove over Cas’ smooth bare skin. Cas is a little rougher with Dean’s clothes, but he still takes longer.

They topple onto the bed together minutes later, all fumbling limbs and hot mouths. Dean sees stars—the painful kind—when Cas accidentally smacks him in the head in an effort to get him closer. Cas starts giggling, clearly not sorry for giving Dean a concussion. He sobers after a moment and presses a gentle kiss to the bump he caused. “Sorry,” he mumbles, trailing kisses down past Dean’s ear. He pushes Dean onto his back, crawling over him with a considering look that is in no way apologetic.

“I want to thank you for such a lovely evening,” Cas informs him, kissing his neck.

Dean trails his hands up Cas’ bare back, dragging his blunt nails lightly along Cas’ skin. Cas shivers. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” He takes one of Dean’s hands and places it on his ass, guiding two of the fingers to his entrance and encouraging their exploration. Dean thinks he knows what Cas is trying to say and slowly shakes his head, a yawning pit of discomfort swallowing his stomach whole. “I uh… could we wait on that, maybe?” he asks, trying not to show how much the idea freaks him out.

Cas sits back on his haunches with a frown. “What do you mean? Why?”

“I uh… I don’t know, I just…” Dean makes a face and sits up, taking Cas with him as he shifts higher on the bed. “It’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”

“Why, because I’m a virgin? I can assure, Dean, it will have little bearing on the end result. I’ve used enough toys on myself to accommodate even your girth.”

Dean clenches his teeth, both because he is frustrated at having to voice his feelings and because the reminder that Cas can ride a dildo like a pro makes his dwindling erection flare back up momentarily. “It’s different, doing it with another person.”

“I understand that. That’s why I want that other person to be you, someone I care deeply for and who I know will take care of me. I decided a long time ago that I wanted you to be my first. I see no reason why tonight cannot be the night it happens.”

Dean clenches his hands into fists at Cas’ hips and forces himself to say what he really, really doesn’t want to. “You’re not the only one who’s new to this, okay? _I’m_ not ready for this yet.”

Castiel frowns deeper, almost sneering in anger. “Is that a joke? Do you think I’ve forgotten that you spend half your life convincing nameless, faceless women to fuck you? Do you think I don’t lie awake at night wondering if you’re out somewhere, fucking some stranger while I’m here, wishing you were next to me?”

Dean hadn’t even known Cas did weepy drunk, but he’s surprised to see tears pooling in Cas’ eyes. This was not what he had wanted for this evening _at all_. He uncurls his fists and uses them to sooth Cas’ trembling shoulders, leaning in to press tiny kisses along Cas’ cheekbones. “Baby, I’m sorry. If it could just be me and you all the time, I’d choose that any day. But it can’t be. You know I have to do that stuff. That’s not really what I was talking about anyway. I’ve never had sex that… _meant_ anything before. Like you said, all my sex has been with nameless strangers I’d just met. I’ve never been with anyone who made me…” He hesitates, reluctant to say it, but Cas is looking at him with his big, watery blue eyes, and Dean’s resolve crumbles, “Feel the way you do. This is special. _You’re_ special. I don’t want to fuck it up. I’m doing a great job already, obviously,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself.

Cas shifts closer, dropping his eyes to his hands, resting on Dean’s stomach. “Do you love me?” he asks. The question was almost a whisper, but he might as well have shouted it for how loud the words resound in Dean’s ears. Panic has his heart beating 200-beats-a-minute, and he can feel cold sweat trickle down his neck. He’s too freaked out to say anything, but he knows if he stays silent much longer it’ll hurt Cas. Instead of words, he pulls Cas in by the neck and kisses his forehead, closing his eyes and inhaling into Cas’ soft hair. Cas seems to accept the gesture as an answer of its own and settles against Dean’s chest, curling his fingers around Dean’s bicep.

“I’m tired.”

“Yeah, Cas, me too. Let’s go to bed.” Cas lets himself be guided under the blankets and shifts around to face the wall while Dean gets up to flick the light off. When he crawls back into bed, Cas shifts back into the curve of his body and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together against his pillow and pressing his lips to Dean’s thumb. If Dean stays awake until three thinking, it’s no one’s business but his.

-

Cas woke him up this morning with a blow job, and it had been one of the hardest struggles of his young life to say goodbye an hour later in front of Cas’ Monday morning class. Now, four hours later, he hesitates in front of the motel room door. Sammy had called him yesterday while he was making lunch with Cas and let him know John had taken care of the poltergeist. The conversation had been stilted, but it didn’t sound like Dad had taken any of his anger at Dean out on Sam, which was good.

Dean bites the bullet and pushes the door open and walks in. John’s reading a newspaper at the table. He gives Dean a glare when he sees him, but doesn’t say anything. Dean takes a deep breath and walks past him, depositing his duffel on the bed he’d been sharing with Sammy. “Heard you got that ghost.”

John grunts an affirmative, but keeps his eyes on the paper. The line of tension down his back is a clear sign of his anger. Dean decides it’s probably best to just leave him alone and snags a New York Times from the bottom of the pile. He takes it to the bed and spreads out without another word.

Two hours later neither of them has said anything when Sammy comes loping in with a cautious smile for Dean. He gives their father a wide berth and flops down next to Dean with an exhausted sigh.

“How are midterms?” Dean asks.

“Horrible. Pretty sure I just flunked my calc test,” Sam sulks, pouting.

Dean ruffles his hair a little harder than necessary and pats his shoulder. “I’m sure you did fine.”

“How was Chicago?”

Dean darts a look towards their father, but he doesn’t acknowledge them. “It was good. Cas says hi. We uh… we went out for burgers at this 50’s joint that was pretty badass. They had a blue cheese bacon burger that was so good I almost passed out. We’ll have to try it the next time we go through.”

Sam wrinkles his nose. “That sounds… healthy.”

Dean rolls his eyes and shoves Sam’s shoulder. “Bitch.”

Sam throws him a mock glare and starts digging into his backpack. “Whatever, jerk. I gotta study for my history midterm.” He pulls out a book thicker than Dean’s forearm and a couple of notebooks and flops onto his stomach with his feet facing Dean. Dean shoves one of his stinky socked feet out of the way and goes back to his newspaper.

John only acknowledges either of them another hour later, when he gets up from his chair to go to the bathroom and grumbles at Dean over his shoulder, “You got a hickey on your neck boy.” Dean looks down at his lap, lifting a hesitant hand to cover the mark. _Shit_.


	9. Chapter 9: The Calm before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam requests help from Castiel in the most clandestine way possible. Dean pops up for a surprise visit. Neil is annoying. John is a dick, but that's not exactly new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta, deanstrenchcoatangel, for continuing to help make this story better!

From: samwin81@yahoo.com

To: cnovak@chicago.edu

Sat, March 11, 2000

Subject: Hi, Cas

Message:

Hey Cas,

This is Sam Winchester. How are you? Do you like your classes this semester? I know you said I could come to you if I had questions about anything, and I sort of do? I really want to go to college, but I know we can’t afford it, and my dad doesn’t want me to go anyway. He says it’s ‘unsafe’, which I think is ridiculous. I want to be a lawyer so I can help people and do good in the world.

There are a couple of schools I’d like to go to, but they’re really expensive, and I couldn’t even afford to go to community college by myself. I know you got a really good scholarship for college. I know I’m going to need to figure out a way to get a full scholarship before I even think about which schools to apply to, but I don’t even know where to start. Can you help me?

Thanks,

Sam

From: cnovak@chicago.edu

To: samwin81@yahoo.com

Sun, March 12, 2000

Subject: Re: Hi, Cas

Message:

Hello Sam,

I am pleased to hear that you are considering higher education. I had hoped to help Dean do the same, but that was not in the cards, as they say. I would be more than happy to assist you. If the grade-point average your brother has bragged about is accurate, you are already off to an excellent start. To get into the best schools, you will need to do well on your college entrance exams. If you intend to look at schools on either coast, you should focus on taking the SAT. If you intend to look for schools in the Midwest, focus on the ACT. For either (or both), you will need to score extremely high, the higher the better.

Since you do not play sports, you will need to focus your efforts on academic scholarships, which can be both easier and more challenging to win. I know that your academic history is excellent. You will need to continue maintain your grade point average, and take on as many advance-level courses as you can.

You will also need at least two, but ideally four, recommendations from teachers and mentors of yours. These recommendations should be written by people who are not related to you and are people who are well-respected in their fields. It would be better if they are teachers or counselors at your school.

I understand that your father is worried about your safety, but you will need to get his consent on much of the paperwork you will be filling out, since you are a minor. It might be a good idea to talk to your father’s friend, Bobby Singer, and try to gain his support. I know he is like a second father to both you and Dean. He might be able to talk to your father, and help him to see reason. I know that academia is important to him, being a former scholar himself. He might be willing to act as your permanent mailing address, as you will need somewhere more stable than your living arrangement to act as a receptacle for incoming and outgoing applications. It would be extremely upsetting to know that you worked so hard on a scholarship or college entrance application, only to have the response get lost in the mail forwarding system.

I am going to attach a list of scholarship sources that I used when I was applying for schools, as well as some links to helpful websites for you to read. I hope this will be a good start to your efforts. I am always available to answer any questions you might have.

Sincerely,

Castiel Novak

-

“What are you doing tonight?” Neil asks as he ties his shoes.

“I have three papers to write before Monday. I was planning to get one of them done tonight,” Castiel answers, indicating the pile of books at his knee.

Neil scoffs. “Seriously, dude? It’s Friday night. Come to the party with me. Maybe you’ll meet a dude. Let off some steam.”

“Thank you, but I think I’d rather stay here. The last time I went to a party, I ended up in someone else’s bed. I don’t think I want to do that again.”

“Why not? You’re twenty years old. You need to live a little, get laid. You know that’s what your boyfriend’s doing, isn’t it?”

Castiel freezes, leveling Neil with a look. “Thank you for the reminder. I’m still staying home.”

“Your choice, dude. I’ll see you in the morning, then.” Neil stands and shrugs on his coat, leaving with a last look over his shoulder.

Castiel takes up his cell phone with an annoyed face and sends a text to Avery. **Is it just me, or is Neil becoming more annoying with each new girl he sleeps with?** He sets the phone down and picks up his book again, letting the text distract him until a little bing indicates a new message.

AVERY WELLS: **Sweetie, I’ve been ignoring him for six months now. He pays the rent on time. That’s all I care about. Call Dean and start talking about having sex with him again. Neil’ll go away.**

Castiel snorts. **You’re a horrible influence.**

AVERY WELLS: **Yep, isn’t that why you love me?**

CASTIEL: **Yes. Be careful tonight.**

AVERY WELLS: **Always. See you in the morning, sweetie.**

CASTIEL: **Good night.**

Castiel puts the phone down with a smile and goes back to studying. He has an outline and the first few pages written when he’s interrupted by the door, three quick knocks, followed by four more in quicker succession. Castiel had not been expecting anyone, and certainly not anyone who did not require being buzzed into the building. He peers through the peephole and is shocked to see Dean leaning against the door jam. “Dean!” he cries in surprise, hurrying to pull the door open.

“Hey, sexy, mind if I come in?” Dean says, leaning over the threshold to kiss him in greeting. Castiel frames Dean’s jaw with his hands and returns the kiss with a pleased hum.

“I didn’t know you were coming. Are you staying the weekend?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay?” Dean’s smirk melts into an expression of uncertainty. Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and pulls him into a hug.

“Of course it is, Dean. I’m always pleased to have you. You know that.” It isn’t until he steps back that he realizes what he’s said, but he lets it go, choosing to kiss Dean again instead.

“Awesome. I didn’t mean to burst in on your or anything, but I had a weekend off, and we weren’t too far away. Thought I’d surprise you.“ Dean closes the door behind them and sets his duffel down.

Castiel takes the paper bag he’d been carrying and peeks inside at the aluminum foil packages piled inside before looking back up at Dean. “But you said yesterday that you were in Ohio.”

“Yeah, Cleveland,” Dean says as he pulls off his jacket and hangs it up in the closet.

“That’s a long drive, isn’t it?”

“Five hours, not long at all. Come on, I brought food and booze, and…” Dean grins, pulling a set of dvds out of his duffel and dangling them in front of Cas. Castiel recognizes the hospital scrubs the people on the package are wearing, but that’s it. “Season one of Dr. Sexy, M. D., as promised.”

Castiel shakes his head in amusement. “If we must. Put your bag in my room and get the television ready. I’ll get the food plated. What did you get?”

“Fried shimp, hope that’s okay.” Dean shoulders his pack again and heads in the direction of the bedroom. Castiel takes the food bag into the kitchen and grabs plates before beginning to riffle through the contents of the bag. There’s a giant paper bowl of fried shrimp and two kinds of sauce, as well as french fries and two slice containers that unsurprisingly hold pie. Castiel chuckles to himself as he divides up the food and puts the beer he finds in the bottom of the bag in the fridge, pulling out two cold bottles to start them off.

He takes everything into the living room and sets it all on the coffee table. Dean is fiddling with the dvd player, but he looks like he knows how to use it, which is more than Castiel can say of his own skills. He distracts himself from staring at Dean’s ass by straightening the mess of research materials he had spread all over the couch and stacking them neatly at his feet. He really does have three papers to write and very little hope for showing any interest in the show. He is confident he will be able to get some work done after they’ve eaten.

Dean finally turns back to the couch with a huge grin and the remote in his hand. He settles next to Cas on the couch and hits the symbol that must mean PLAY in Cantonese on the welcome menu of the dvd. “Are you ready for some very sexy doctoring?” Dean asks in the cheesiest sultry voice Cas has ever head. It makes him giggle.

“You are ridiculous.”

“And oh so sexy, right?”

“Mmm, very sexy,” Cas agrees, leaning in to meet his lips. Dean cups the back of his neck, putting a little more heat in the kiss than Cas expects. He hums in pleasure, scooting up onto his knees and letting Dean pull him onto his lap. A song so sappy even Castiel can’t stand it starts playing, and he has to pull away in disgust. “What is that?”

“The Dr. Sexy theme music. I know it’s awful, but I promise the show is cool.”

“You said the same thing about Indiana Jones.”

“Dude, just because a movie isn’t Biblically accurate, that doesn’t make it bad. Harrison Ford is badass,” Dean insists, scowling. Castiel knows he is still upset that Cas did not enjoy the movies as much as Dean had hoped he would.

Cas slides off Dean’s lap and picks up his plate, intent on eating. “Harrison Ford is quite attractive, I agree, but his presence does not make up for complete lack of realism.”

“If you say that about Star Wars, we’re breaking up.”

“Mmhmm,” Cas murmurs around a delicious mouthful of fried shrimp. The breading practically melts in his mouth and makes him want to melt as well.

Dean peers at him with apparent annoyance. “I’m serious, babe.”

“You sound very serious,” Cas agrees with a tiny smile as he dips another shrimp in the sauce and holds it up to Dean’s mouth. Dean glares, but Cas ignores him as soon as he’s taken the bite. They fall into silence as they eat, starting to actually watch the show now that they’re too busy eating to flirt with each other.

Castiel’s original assessment that he is not going to find entertainment value in the medical drama is correct, and as soon as he and Dean have both finished eating, he takes the plates into the kitchen to wash. He comes back a few minutes later with a refill on their beers to find Dean engrossed. He rolls his eyes and takes his seat back, picking up the book he had been reading and returning to his research paper. Despite his distaste for the show, it is nice to have Dean next to him even when they are doing completely different things. This is especially true when Dean finally clues into the fact that Cas has been leaning his back against Dean’s shoulder for the last half an hour, and rather than complaining that Cas isn’t watching, he wraps an arm around Cas’ chest and pulls him close instead, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. Cas leans his head on Dean’s shoulder and props his book up on his knees so it’s easier to see, content to let Dean hold him.

Around ten, Avery bursts through the door looking thoroughly annoyed and doesn’t even glance over before she starts peeling off layers of coat and scarf. “Oh my god, worst date in the history of the world. The guy used way too much cologne and would not stop talking about how important he was at his tech job. I’m pretty sure he’s the guy at work everyone else avoids like the fucking plague. Ugh. I knew he was going to be awful when I saw his shoes. Why didn’t you make me listen to myself about the shoes? I blame you for this, Cas.” Avery looks up from untying the 500 laces of her over-the-knee boots and comes up short. “Dean, woah, what are you doing here?” she asks, blinking.

“Stopped by for the weekend to introduce Cas to Dr. Sexy, M.D. I’d ask how you are, but it sounds like you need a drink.”

“I so do. Are you really watching Dr. Sexy? I thought the season was over.” She looks at the television with interest.

“I scored a bootleg in Cleveland. Wanna join us? I’m pretty sure Cas lost interest a while ago.”

“I never expressed an interest in the first place. I’m only tolerating it because you are keeping me warm, and you brought me delicious shrimp,” Cas reminds him, not looking up from his notebook. He’s determined to have this paper written before they go to bed, and he’s already half-way finished.

“That shrimp was pretty awesome,” Dean agrees, squeezing Cas to him briefly.

“Giant surprise, Cas isn’t interested in watching tv. All that Children-of-the-Corn-living’s scrambled his brain,” Avery says. Castiel would be offended, but he knows Avery’s only teasing him, so he chooses to shoot her a mock-annoyed glare instead. She winks at him with a grin and disappears for a while. When she reappears, it is in the pink track suit she wears to lounge with the strange letters across her butt and a beer. “So seriously, Dean-o, it’s only been like two months. Where’s the fire?” She asks as she settles next to Cas on the couch. She doesn’t complain when he tucks his cold toes under her thigh, just flashes Dean a smirk.

“In Cas’ pants,” Dean snarks back.

Castiel pinches his arm in retaliation. “Pervert,” he mutters.

Dean kisses the back of his neck again without comment.

Avery shakes her head at them with an amused smirk. She quickly becomes as engrossed in the show as Dean is, and they exchange conversation about it over Cas’ head. Having grown up in a house full of loud siblings, Cas has no problem tuning them out, and is only made aware of either of them when one of the other gets up to grab another beer or change the disks out. By one in the morning, his essay is complete, and he decides that it is time for bed. He stacks the books up neatly on the coffee table and turns to Dean.

“I would like to go to bed now,” he says simply.

Dean turns from the television to blink owlishly at him. “Huh?”

“Bed, now. You’re taking me.”

“I am?”

“Yes. Come on.” He stands, giving Dean a look he hopes conveys what he has in mind for when they get to bed. Dean is up and ready to follow him immediately.

“Night, Avery. Sorry about the sucky date. Cas and I are gonna go to bed now,” he says quickly, grabbing their empty beer bottles in one hand and Cas’ hand in the other.

Avery snorts. “Have fun,” she says as she grabs a pillow and spreads out on the couch, clearly intending to continuing marathoning the show.

Dean and Cas move towards the bedroom, stopping to throw the beer bottles away in the kitchen. When they get into the room, Cas tosses the notebook with his essay on his desk, intending to type it up in the morning, and quickly finds himself pushed up against the door with a grinning Dean looming over him. He holds a hand up to Dean’s lips with an apologetic smile. “Can we brush our teeth first? The shrimp was delicious, but I’d prefer not to kiss you with shrimp sauce still in my mouth.” He makes a face to indicate his distaste, and Dean buries his nose in Cas’ shoulder.

“Yeah, okay. Let me grab my toothbrush.” He kisses Cas’ cheek and goes to dig through his duffel.

Cas leaves him to it and slips into the bathroom. Dean meets him in there a minute later, and they stand side-by-side, brushing their teeth. It makes Cas smile, the domesticity of the scene. He has to restrain himself from reminding Dean that it could be like this all the time, if only Dean and Sam would settle in Chicago and let their father roam where he willed. Dean turns to him after rinsing, flashing his freshly cleaned teeth. “Shrimp-free. Can we make out now?”

Cas grins, nodding. Dean’s on him a second later, kissing him, hands roaming down his sides to cup his ass, lifting him up onto the bathroom counter. Cas buries his fingers in Dean’s hair, nipping at his bottom lip with a happy smile. Dean grips his hips and pulls them flush with his, his hands traveling south to squeeze Cas’ ass. Cas whines into his mouth, squirming closer, hating that they both still have clothes on. All he wants is to feel Dean’s skin against his, his hands on him, warm and strong and so perfect.

He starts pulling at Dean’s shirt, smoothing his hands up Dean’s flat stomach with a little hum of happiness. Dean pulls away to let him get the shirt over his head and immediately goes in for another kiss. Cas goes back to running his hands up and down Dean’s abs, scratching his blunt nails down them gently until Dean is grunting into his mouth and pulling him closer.

Dean pulls away after awhile, pressing his forehead to Cas’ and framing his face with his big hands. “Bedroom?” he rasps, hoarse and panting.

Cas agrees with a tiny grin, pressing a line of kisses across Dean’s cheek to his ear, licking the rim of it until he feels Dean shiver. He doesn’t get to go further because Dean pulls him off the counter by his hips and carries him out of the bathroom, across the hall, and into his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them.

-

Castiel wakes up cradled against Dean, warm and content. He takes a moment, staring at his bookcase, fantasizing that this is how he wakes up every morning, Dean’s warm skin pressed close to his, Dean’s breath blowing through the back of his hair. Dean shifts with a grunt, turning his head away and loosening his grip. Cas takes it as his sign that he needs to get up. He has a paper to type, after all. He slides out from under Dean’s arm and pulls on his pajamas. Getting out of bed usually leaves him feeling dragged down and grumpy, but it’s less today somehow. He leans over the bed and kisses Dean’s cheek, smiling at the noise Dean makes as he spreads out across the bed.

Neil’s in the kitchen when he gets there, making toast and coffee. He barely looks up when Castiel walks in. “Hey,” he mutters, “you missed a good party last night.”

“That’s nice,” Cas answers, going for the coffee without looking at him.

“Dude, you look like you went a couple rounds with a wild dog. What the hell?”

Castiel levels him with a look. “I got laid.”

“Woah, look at you! You fuck the pizza guy or something?”

“Yes, I disregarded twenty years of morality to fuck a random stranger I’ve never met before because you told me to.”

Neil isn’t fazed by the sarcasm. “Then, who?”

“You’re a sophomore at one of the best universities in the United States. You can figure it out.” He leaves the kitchen without another word, sipping his coffee as he goes back to his room. Dean’s still in the same position, out cold. Castiel sets his cup down and turns his computer on. He drinks his coffee while he waits for it to boot up and watches Dean’s back rise and fall, his tan skin marked with the red lines of Cas’ own scratches. There’s a moment where Cas thinks maybe he should just get back into bed, lick a line up those marks, wake Dean up with a proper greeting. But then the Windows sign-on sounds, and he’s able to shake himself of the distraction.

Half an hour later, Cas is almost finished typing and editing his paper when the silence of the room is broken by groaning and the sound of sheets rustling. Cas turns to watch Dean roll around and off the bed, making an annoyed face as he stands and stretches. “What time is it?” he asks, yawning.

“Almost ten.”

“Mmm, mornin’. A little early for work, isn’t it?” Dean accompanies his question with a kiss to Cas’ neck, rubbing his hands down Cas’ arms.

“Typing up my German paper. I’m almost finished. There’s coffee in the kitchen if you want some.”

“Coffee sounds awesome. Know what sounds more awesome?” Dean moves his hands up into Cas’ hair, combing through it and massaging his scalp.

“Bacon?”

“Well yeah, but you know what would be better?”

“No idea.” Castiel looks up at Dean over his shoulder to find him smirking his sex smirk.

“You, naked, maybe on the bed. Maybe not.” Dean leans down to lick and suck Cas’ earlobe into his mouth. Cas’ toes curl at the pleasure of it, but he can’t let it distract him from finishing the paper. He has two more to write before the end of the weekend, after all.

“As much as I would enjoy that, it will have to wait. Go get breakfast, let me finish this paper, and I’ll be naked and at your disposal right afterwards.”

Dean leans further over him to press a kiss to his lips. “Sounds like a plan. Want anything for breakfast?”

“Toast?”

“Be right back.” Dean leaves, and Castiel goes back to typing, fingers moving a little quicker now that he has sex with Dean as an incentive. Dean’s left the door open, and Cas can hear the conversation going on in the kitchen. Neil is in there again, and he clearly hadn’t put two and two together about Dean yet.

“Dude, didn’t expect to see you. When did you get here?”

“Last night. Cas said you were at a party or something.”

“Yeah, this awesome rave down at UIC. Made out with three different chicks. It was awesome.”

“Sounds it. Mind if I make some breakfast for Cas and me?”

“Sure, dude.”Any conversation that follows is muffled by the sounds of pans banging against hard surfaces and food sizzling. Castiel focuses on the paper, finishing it quickly and giving it a final read-through before printing it and depositing it in his German folder. He’s just getting started on his anthropology paper when Dean returns with two steaming plates of food, a coffee cup dangling precariously from his hand. He sets one plate in front of Cas and sits on the edge of the bed to eat his own.

“How goes the paper?”

“Finished. I was just starting on my second one. This looks delicious, though. Thank you, Dean.” Cas takes up the plate and fork, twisting in his chair to face Dean.

Dean has already begun digging into his eggs. “So, you’re all done with the paper?”

“Yes, but I have two more to write before the end of the weekend. I’ve already half-started on my anthropology paper.”

Dean considers this as he shoves a corner of toast into his mouth. “Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t go to college. That sounds like a whole lot of work.”

Castiel smiles around a forkful of surprisingly delicious eggs. He hadn’t known Dean could cook. “It is, but it will be worth it when I’m done.”

“For you, yeah. Can’t be a sexy librarian without the fancy diploma, can you?” Dean’s got his sexy smirk on again, dangling the end of his fork off his bottom lip in an even sexier way.

“No, I cannot.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, watching each other eat. Dean finishes first and sets his plate aside. Castiel watches as he slides off the bed onto his knees and crawls over to him. “You made me a promise when I went to make breakfast,” he says, lifting himself up with hands on Cas’ knees. Castiel sets his plate on the desk to give his full attention to Dean.

“I did?”

“Yep, and now I want to collect.” His hands slide up Cas’ thighs to rest on his pajamas bottoms, slowly teasing them down his hips. Cas lifts up to help him, licking his lips in anticipation of whatever Dean has planned. Dean tosses the pants somewhere to their right and starts in on the buttons of Cas’ pajamas top. “I don’t know what it is about these geeky Dick Van Dyke pajamas, but they turning me on so bad,” Dean informs him, pressing wet kisses to everY new patch of skin he exposes. Castiel sighs, dropping his head back in pleasure. “All I can think about when I see you in them is getting them off of you.”

“Oh really? I had no idea my pajamas were so erotic.”

Dean kneels back up to reach Cas’ lips for a brief kiss before pulling back with a raised eyebrow. “Did you just say ‘erotic’?”

“Yes. Is that not an appropriate term?”

Dean drops his face into Castiel’s neck and laughs, hot puffs of breath tickling Castiel’s skin. “You are something else, you know that? Get down here.” He tugs Cas down without much force, laying him out on the carpet and rolling on top of him. Cas pulls him down for another, deeper, kiss, lifting his hips up into Dean’s boxers. Dean slides between his legs, rocking down into him. The boxer-briefs are soft enough not to irritate, but are still in the way. Castiel pushes them down, only half-succeeding until Dean clues in and helps him. The shirt goes a moment later, and they’re skin-to-skin again.

Dean nips at his lip, pulling an unexpected whimper from him. He clenches fingers onto Dean’s shoulders, digging his nails in the way he knows Dean likes. Dean rewards him with a hand twisting under his body, pulling him closer so their erections rub together. Cas crosses his ankles behind Dean’s back to give himself leverage to thrust against Dean. Their movements are slow, sensual in a way they’ve never been before—tender almost. Dean twines their fingers together and lifts their joined hands over Cas’ head, pinning him down. He pulls up from the kiss, staring down at Cas with an intensity that sends shivers down his spine. Dean’s beautiful green eyes are nearly black now, the iris nearly engulfed by his pupils. Castiel cannot look away.

His orgasm creeps up on him and takes him by surprise, a silent wave stealing him in the night and carrying him off to sea. He floats for a while on the ebb and flow of pleasure, waiting for Dean to join him. He doesn’t have to wait long. With a soft groan, Dean spills over him, pulling him close for a final thrust before he collapses. Cas combs fingers through his hair and watches the short brown hairs slide through his fingers and thinks that he has never been more sure that Dean loves him. He never expects Dean to say it—he’s not even sure if he’ll ever have the courage to say it—but he knows.

After a while, Dean sits up and grabs a towel from the hamper, using it to clean them both up. He leans over Cas to press another kiss to his lips. “Don’t suppose you’d want to join me for a nap?”

“Can’t, I need to get more work done. If you’re still napping in a few hours, maybe I’ll join you then.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He pecks Cas’ lips once more before crawling up onto the bed and sprawling out after a fight with the sheets. By the time Cas peels himself off the floor and gets his pajamas bottoms back on, Dean’s out cold. He stays that way for two hours while Cas works his way through two-thirds of the paper. Thankfully, it isn’t as difficult as the German one had been, and he had already finished the research for it during the week. He stands to stretch and decides taking a nap wouldn’t hurt. He suspects Dean might be a bad influence on him, but somehow doesn’t care.

He shoves Dean over just a little to crawl into bed with him, and Dean pulls him in like an octopus with prey. It doesn’t take him long to fall into sleep himself. They stay that way for another two hours before Avery wakes them with a banging knock and a yell that they need to stop fucking so they can watch the Buffy marathon with her. Neither appreciates the wake-up, but Dean soon finds his way to the living room for some vampire slayage, and Cas finishes his paper without further distractions.

-

The week after Dean returns from his latest visit to Cas is tense to say the least. Announcing that he was taking a weekend to visit Cas after the close of their latest case hadn’t ended in the fight he’d been expecting, but there had been a lot of glaring and back-handed remarks about his target shooting. Getting to spend an entire weekend with Cas had been worth it, but the silent treatment he was getting was making it difficult to work the haunting case he’d found in Minnesota.

The house was known to be haunted. Dean had seen the name in passing a few times, but had always been busy with other things to check out the details. An article in the Star Tribune had caught Dean’s attention, and he did some digging. Three of the last five owners and their families were dead, the dads coming after their wives and kids before taking themselves out. All had reported strange occurrences in the house. All had been considered normal, happy, apple-pie families before the deaths. The house had been vacant for almost a decade after the last murder, but a new family had just moved in the week before. An awkward conversation at the screen door had informed Dean that this new family, the Morgans, were experiencing weird phenomena, too, although the six-year-old he’d spoken to had said it was ‘cool’ when the kitchen table lifted three feet off the ground in the middle of dinner. His mother had been horrified when she’d discovered the little boy talking to Dean. She hadn’t taken his story about just wanting to greet the new neighbors very well, either.

From the pattern of the previous murders, they only had a few weeks to figure this out before Daddy Morgan took up a butcher knife in the middle of the night. Dean and John had done more digging and found an old article from the ‘50s about a George Flint, who’d lived in the house with his wife and twin boys. One night in 1957, he’d gotten the butcher knife from the pantry and stabbed his two boys in their beds before going to his own bedroom and stabbing his wife in the heart. A neighbor had found him in bed with her the next morning, his wrists slit and the knife laying on the bedside table. The police thought he’d caught his wife cheating and killed the family in a fit of rage.

“It says here the dude was cremated, but there has to be something he’s still tied to, right?” Dean insists, holding up Flint’s obit.

John huffs and snatches the print-out from him, reading it over quickly. “The house,” is all he says, standing and grabbing his coat.

Dean follow quickly behind, pulling his own jacket on as he goes. “We can’t burn the house down, Dad. The Morgans have already moved in. What are we gonna say to them? ‘We’re very sorry to do this, but your house is haunted, and the only way we can stop the ghost from killing you is to burn it down’? That’ll go over real well.”

John doesn’t say anything, but he glares when Dean gets into the passenger side of his truck. Dean doesn’t need a verbal warning to know he needs to shut his mouth before it gets punched. He checks his shotgun over while they drive, trying to make logic out of the idea that burning down a house is an acceptable solution to the problem. He doesn’t come up with anything. All he can hope is that the plan isn’t really to burn down the whole house.

When they get there, the lights are off and both cars are in the driveway. They can’t burn it down, no way, not with two parents and three kids under seven sleeping inside. He looks to his dad, who’s staring at the shed behind the house with purpose. He exits the car, and Dean scrambles after him, still not sure what the plan is. John stalks towards the woodshed, pumping his shotgun as he walks. Just as he approaches, the transparent figure of a man, half his head blown off, appears in front of John. The ghost snarls, revealing a ragged mouth of snaggle teeth. Nasty, Dean thinks. He pumps his own shotgun, aiming it at the ghost’s chest, but the ghost is flickering out of sight before he can get his shot off, and he’s right in front of Dean a second later.

Dean doesn’t have time to understand what’s happening before he’s being hurled against the side of the house and bright white pain explodes in his head. He doesn’t remember hitting the ground.


	10. Injured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is the least fun patient ever. Also grumpy.

Dean’s in a morphine-induced slumber when his phone starts ringing. Sam grabs it, knowing who it’ll be without having to think. He eyes his dad, but John’s busy scribbling in his journal. Sam makes a quick decision and hits the green answer button. “Cas?” he says.

“ _Hello, Sam. Is Dean available?_ ” comes Cas’ steady voice.

Sam rubs at his hair with a nervous hand, tugging it a little. “Dean’s uh… Dean’s taking a nap.”

“ _Oh, well, that’s fine. How are you doing, Sam?_ ”

“I’m uh… I’m good. Ready for the semester to get over. How are you?”

“ _I am well. I am also looking forward to the end of the semester. My workload has increased quite a bit._ ”

“Yeah, me too, but at least we’re not moving again before it’s over.” Sam smacks himself in the forehead for his stupidity. He shouldn’t have said anything to Cas.

“ _Oh? Did you father find more permanent employment?_ ”

“No exactly. We can’t move until uh… until Dean’s out of the hospital.” Sam looks at Dean’s leg, the pins visible through the cast, remembering what the doctor had said about how long it was going to take for Dean to be able to use his leg again.

“ _I’m sorry, I thought I just heard you say that Dean is in the hospita_ l.”

“I uh… I did. He’s gonna be fine, but yeah, he’s in the hospital for at least another few days, if not a week.”

“ _What happened? Where are you?_ ” Crap, Cas sounds panicked. He shouldn’t have said anything. Now Cas is going to freak out, and Dean’s going to kill him for opening his big fat mouth.

“Idaho Falls. Dean got in a… work accident. He’s gonna pull through, but he broke his leg in like a million pieces, and they had to do pins and stuff. It’s pretty nasty looking. The doctor’s got him sedated.”

“ _Sedated, hmm? So when you said he was taking a nap, you were lying._ ” There was a hint of danger in Castiel’s voice that has Sam shifting in his visitor chair fourteen hundred miles away. He’s seen Cas mad. That’s not a hissing cat he’s willing to touch.

“He might have had help?”

“ _What hospital are you at? I’ll be there as soon as I can._ ”

“No, Cas, don’t! Dean will kill me when he finds out I even told you. Stay in Chicago. You’ve got like what, three weeks of school left? Dean’ll have a fit if you flunk out of your classes because of him. Besides, he’s gonna be fine. He’s only on sedatives because the nurses can’t stand his bitching otherwise. He’s not exactly the easiest patient in the world.”

Cas sighs. “ _Are you sure he’s going to be alright?_ ”

“Yeah, Cas, I’m sure. I’ll have him call you when he’s awake so you can talk to him yourself. He’s only still in the hospital because of the surgery on his leg. They’re gonna release him as soon as they’re sure he’s not gonna have a reaction to the pins or the meds or something.”

Cas takes a calming breath that’s so loud, Sam can hear it on the other end. “ _Very well. What happened at work to cause this accident? It sounds like serious damage has been done to his leg_.”

Sam eyes Dean, then his dad, who’s looking at him with an unimpressed stare. “Uh… a car fell on him. The jack he was using failed and the car crushed his leg,” he lies. He hadn’t been there when the accident happened, but Dad had told him about the ghost shoving Dean into the side of a house, and then hurling the stump of a huge tree at him. Thankfully, the trunk had missed anything vital, but his leg had come out mangled and the shove against the house had knocked Dean out flat. John had been tense since Dean came back from Chicago, but he’d looked genuinely scared when he showed up at the motel to pick Sam up on the way to the hospital. It had scared the hell out of Sam, too. They only went to hospitals for the serious stuff.

“ _Does he have any other injuries?_ ”

“Not really, just some bruises. The leg’s gonna take a couple months to heal, though.”

“ _Which is why you will be staying in Idaho Falls until the end of the school year?_ ”

“Yeah, probably longer. The doctor said Dean won’t be able to put weight on the leg for at least a month and a half, and he’s gonna have to do physical therapy.”

“ _I’m sure he’s going to be a pleasant person to deal with in the meantime_.”

Sam snorts. He doesn’t even want to think about what Dean’s going to be like, especially with Dad around. Maybe Dad’ll find a hunt and go off for a little while, and he can take care of Dean. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s gonna be a nightmare. He’s already done enough complaining just in the last day. It’s gonna be a long couple of months.”

“ _When school finishes, I will try to get time off of work and come and visit, if that would be alright._ ”

Sam looks up at his dad again, who is still staring at him. “Yeah, maybe. You should probably talk about that with Dean first.”

“ _I will do that. Please make sure that Dean calls me when he is awake. I would very much like to hear how he is doing from his own mouth_.”

“I might have to pull some teeth, but I’ll do what I can.”

“ _Why would you need to pull teeth? Have your wisdom teeth already begun to crown?_ ”

Sam smiles a little and shake his head. “It’s just an expression, Cas. Don’t worry about it. I’ll have Dean call you when he’s up, okay?”

“ _Yes, thank you, Sam. And thank you for telling me. I understand how stubborn Dean can be. I believe you are correct in assuming that he might not ever have told me about this injury himself._ ”

“No problem, Cas. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

 _“Yes, goodbye Sam_.”

“Bye, Cas,” Sam finishes, ending the call. John doesn’t look happy about the exchange, but Sam doesn’t really care. He sends a glare right back at his dad. “What? I didn’t tell him what really happened. Cas cares about Dean. He deserves to know when Dean gets injured.”

“He’s a little faggot, and your brother should have left him alone a long time ago.”

Sam shoots Dean a quick look to check that he’s still out cold before sneering viciously at his father. “Don’t call him that! Cas is awesome. Just because you have to be a bigot, that doesn’t mean Dean and I have to. I don’t get how you can say such bad things about him when you haven’t even met him.”

John half-stands. “You watch your tone with me, boy. I’ll beat your ass from here to the coast and back.”

Sam decides to ignore the threat, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. “No, I won’t. I’m tired of watching you treat us like drones you can program to do whatever you want. Cas is an awesome guy, and he makes Dean really happy. Why can’t you just accept that? Why does it matter that he and Cas want to be together?”

“It’s a distratction, and it goes against nature. It’s already affected his reaction time. If he hadn’t been daydreaming about that boy, he wouldn’t be sitting in a hospital bed now. I’m not letting my boy turn into a fairy-loving fag.”

“News flash, he already is! Dean’s been bisexual since way before he met Cas. Did you forget about Ryan Thompson? Or Billy Carlson? So Dean likes guys as much as he likes girls. So what? How does that change who he is? It doesn’t. He didn’t get hurt because he was daydreaming about Cas. He got hurt because a homicidal ghost attacked him! It wasn’t Dean’s fault, and you know it. You’re just too stubborn to admit that you’re wrong. You don’t want either one of us to be happy.” Sam manages to stop himself from shouting, but it is difficult. As it is, Dean shifts in bed with an uncomfortable groan.

John looks ready to slap Sam, and if they had been standing next to each other instead of across Dean’s hospital bed, Sam has no doubt he would have done it already. “If you say anything about my not letting you go to college, I will climb over this bed and whoop you,” John growls, clenching his fists at his sides.

“Well, am I wrong?! You don’t want Dean to love who he loves, and you don’t want me to go to college and have a normal life!”

“Excuse me, but I’m going to have to ask you to take this outside. Dean needs his rest, and he can’t get any with all this shouting,” the nurse interrupts them, sticking her head in the room with a reproving stare.

John’s glare falls off his face. “I apologize. My son and I are having a disagreement. It won’t happen again,” he says. He scowls at Sam. “We’re done now, aren’t we, son?”

“Yeah, for now,” Sam says, sulking. His head is still buzzing with anger, but he knows he’s not going to get anywhere yelling at his father in a hospital room, and he definitely doesn’t want to wake Dean.

The nurse gives them both a stern look as she fully walks into the room and spends a few minutes checking Dean’s vitals. They must be fine because she doesn’t say anything about Dean. “If you intend on having any further _disagreements_ , please do so outside. Dean’s body is under enough stress attempting to heal. He doesn’t need family distress on top of that.” She shoots John another pointed look before leaving the room again.

Sam sits back in his chair, glaring at his father, but not saying anything. John grabs his jacket and pulls it on with a little more violence than necessary. “I’m going out. I don’t wanna hear anything more about that boy when I get back, got it?”

“If you mean do I understand that you’re homophobic, then yes, I do. Have fun at the bar getting drunk instead of taking care of your son,” Sam mutters. Not softly enough, apparently, because John slaps him hard across the back of the head when he walks past.

“Shut your mouth before I have to shut it for you,” he whispers, harsh, in Sam’s ear. Sam doesn’t say anything. He knows he probably crossed a line there that shouldn’t have been crossed. He lets his dad go without further comment.

Dean doesn’t stir again for a couple hours, and Sam spends the in-between time worrying about his brother and thinking about what will happen to Dean when he goes to college. Sam knows he shouldn’t count on it. There’s no guarantee that he’ll get in anywhere. But he’s determined to go, and he knows if he works hard enough, he can make it happen. And hell, maybe he can convince Dean to leave the life and come with him. He’ll probably never convince Dean to go to college, but maybe trade school. He likes fixing cars. They could get an apartment together, maybe talk Cas into moving in with them, too. Sam would have to hear them have sex every now and then, but it’d be worth it to see Dean happy. They could both be free from under their dad’s tyranny for once in their lives. They could have a home, and Sam could become a lawyer, and everything could be great.

When Dean wakes from his morphine-induced fog demanding pie, Sam quickly stows the ridiculous dreams of a happy home and finds a nurse to get Dean dinner.

“Where’s Dad?” Dean asks as he digs into the turkey on his tray. The nurse was nice enough to bring Sam one, too, but he’s not particularly hungry.

“He went out, didn’t say when he’d be back.”

Dean levels a look at him. “Did you pick a fight?”

Sam pokes at his mashed potatoes, guilt swirling in his stomach. He’d promised Dean just a few days ago that he’d lay off arguing with Dad for a while. “Cas called. Dad got all homophobic again. I couldn’t stand how he was talking about you and Cas.”

“Sammy, that’s not your fight, dude. You need to lay off him or he’s gonna knock you flat, you know that, right? He’s only trying to look after us the best way he knows how.”

“Well, he’s doing a crappy job of it. Why can’t he just accept that we’re not his clones?”

“Because he’s Dad. Just lay off him, okay? For me?”

“Fine, I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Sam grouses, poking at the potatoes with a little more force.

“Thank you,” Dean says with a tiny bit of relief. He goes back to shoveling the food into his mouth for a few minutes, but then freezes mid-bite. “Cas called?”

“Yeah, while you were out. I uh… I sort of let it slip about the leg.”

“What?! Dammit, Sammy, I wasn’t going to tell him. Now he’s gonna be worried for nothing.”

“He’s your… you know. You shouldn’t keep this stuff from him.”

Dean tears his roll into shreds, stuffing the pieces in his mouth as he does so. Eventually, he asks, “What’d you tell him happened?”

“Jack broke on a car you were fixing, and the car fell on you.”

“That’s not even a good lie, Sammy. Why would just my legs have been under the car? And why would it have broken only one of them? Was I modeling for a pin-up calendar when it happened? And how could it have even happened in the first place? Did the car not have any tires? It could have crushed my chest, maybe, but my shins could clear the space, easy.”

Sam pauses, not having thought of that. He’s not actually sure how most of that works. John never bothered to teach Sam how to do anything with the car, except the one time he took Sam driving. And Dean won’t let him touch the Impala except to sit in the passenger seat. They used the junkers at Bobby’s when it came time for him to learn to drive. “I didn’t know that.”

Dean nods as though he’s aware that Sam wouldn’t have known that. It gets on Sam’s nerves that he’s got a little self-satisfied smile on as he eats the rest of his potatoes. “If I didn’t know that, do you think Cas does? He barely even drives.”

Dean looks over at him, considering. After a minute, he nods. “Okay, you have a point. You still shouldn’t have told him.”

“Well, I don’t think you should lie to him about this stuff. You’re already lying enough as it is.”

Dean stares at him, looking dumbstruck. “What do you want me to do, Sammy, tell him all about the family business? I’m sure he’d believe me if I told him I hunt ghosts for a living. He’s a civilian. We don’t tell civilians.”

“Even if you love them?” He meant it as a flippant comment to get a rise out of Dean, get him to admit that the rule was a stupid one, but Dean grows very still and looks down at his tray.

“Drop it, Sam. I’m not telling Cas.”

His tone is the one he uses when he’s not willing to back down from an argument. Sam would like to keep pushing, but he’s already crossed one line today that he shouldn’t have. He has a feeling this one won’t go any better. He picks at his turkey in silence. Eventually, Dean turns on the tv and starts watching the news. There’s a report about a string of strange occurrences in a neighboring town—a shed burning down and a grave desecration. They are believed to be connected only because the desecrated grave belonged to the original owner of the property the burned-down shed was situated on. The report says that there are currently no suspects. Dean turns the tv to the Simpsons, and neither comments on the police report.

-

“You never called me,” Castiel says as soon as Dean answers his phone. He’s standing in the middle of his room, ready to pull his hair out from Dean’s lack of consideration. He has waited two days to hear from Dean, to find out how he is doing. Two days of pacing his room, of being unable to concentrate on his studies. Two days without an appetite. Two days of, as Avery was kind enough to put it, moping around like a kid who just found out Christmas was cancelled. Forever. And still his phone has remained silent.

“ _Hey, Cas, sorry about that. They’ve had me pretty doped up on morphine. I get released tomorrow, though. I was just gonna call and tell you._ ” Dean has his ultra-charming liar voice on, which only serves to piss Cas off more.

“You were, were you? When? Tomorrow, after you got out of the hospital? Three days from now, after you’ve settled back in your motel room? A month and a half from now when you get the cast off? I’ve been worried sick, Dean! If Sam hadn’t said anything, were you even going to tell me at all?” Cas can feel his anger sizzling off the surface of his skin, practically letting off sparks. All he’s been able to picture for the last two days has been a broken, vulnerable Dean laying in a hospital bed in one of those scratchy gowns, weak and in pain without anyone to hold his hand.

He hears a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “ _Look, Cas, I didn’t want to worry you, okay? I was stupid and got myself hurt, no big deal. There’s nothing you can do about it. You’re like four hundred miles away._ ”

“Three hundred and sixty-five, I checked. And I’m coming there as soon as the semester is over. I’ve already worked my schedule out at the library.”

“ _Cas, no, that’s a bad idea. Dad’s still here, and he’s already tense about this whole thing between us and the accident and everything. You coming here will only make things worse._ ”

Castiel takes three deep breaths, rubbing at his forehead and trying to keep himself calm and collected. He understands what Dean is saying from a logic standpoint. John Winchester obviously does not like the idea of Dean and Cas dating. On the other hand, he wants to be able to be there for Dean, to make sure he’s eating properly and has everything he needs. He is confident John won’t be doing so. “I understand what you’re saying, Dean, I do. I wouldn’t push if this wasn’t important, but please, let me come and see you. I need to see with my own eyes that you’re all right.”

“ _I get it, Cas. Can you give me a few days before you like, buy a bus ticket or whatever?_ ”

“I was planning on driving. Why do I need to give you a few days? What are you going to do? Sam’s already told me where you are. He even sent me an email with the address of your motel and the hospital.”

“ _I uh… I gotta find a reason for my dad to not be here, okay? Just give me a couple of days_.”

“Could you send him to Bobby Singer’s house?”

“ _Nah, last time Dad was there, Bobby pulled a shotgun on him, and that was before Dad found out I like dudes. I’ll figure something out, I just need a few days for the morphine to wear off a little more, okay?_ ”

“All right. I’m still requesting the time off and booking the hotel room, just so we understand each other. I’m not going to capitulate.”

“ _Got it._ ”

They lull into a comfortable silence, but Cas isn’t about to hang up. He hasn’t heard Dean’s voice in three days. He doesn’t want to let go of it now. “Why did Mr. Singer pull a shotgun on your father?” he asks.

“ _I’m not really sure, to be honest. They got in a fight about something, never said what._ ”

“You weren’t curious why your father’s closest friend turned a shotgun on him?”

“ _You’ve met Bobby. Would you be surprised if he pulled a shotgun on someone for pissing him off?_ ”

Castiel thinks about it for a moment, picking up a pen from his desk and twirling it between his fingers. “I suppose not. He certainly had enough ammunition in the house.” Dean makes a noise on the other end of the phone, muffled to Castiel, but clearly one of pain. “Are you alright?” he asks, concern flooding him.

“ _Yeah, just trying to shift around. Laying in bed all day is a pain in the ass. Literally._ ”

“I wish I could be there to massage it for you.”

“ _My ass? Yeah, I wish you were here to massage it, too. And other parts of me._ ” Dean’s tone has dipped low, and Castiel cannot resist rolling his eyes.

“You haven’t even gotten out of the hospital yet, pervert.”

“ _So? You think these doctors and nurses aren’t getting their freak on on their lunch breaks?_ ”

“You watch far too much television. That is unsanitary, not to mention unethical and possibly illegal.”

“ _It’s not illegal for me to do it, is it_?”

“Not that I’m aware, but it still makes you a pervert. From what Sam told me, you have pins in your leg and a cast nearly up to your groin. You should be focusing on healing, not sex.”

“ _I would, but this hot nerd keeps calling me. I can’t get him out of my mind_ …”

Castiel rolls his eyes, but he can’t hold back his smile. “I understand that it’s difficult, but please try to restrain yourself. I do not think your nurses will like you much if they find you masturbating in the middle of the day. Besides, you wouldn’t want to strain yourself before I can get there to help you, now would you?”

“ _You’re gonna help me, huh?_ ”

“Perhaps, if you can behave in the meantime.”

“ _I guess I’ll have to try, then._ ”

“And you’ll stop avoiding calling me?”

“ _Yeah._ ” He even sounds penitent, which makes Castiel happy.

“I’m glad. I miss hearing your voice.”

“ _Me, too, Cas, me too._ ”

-

From: samwin81@yahoo.com

To: cnovak@chicago.edu

Tues, April 20,2000

Subject: Re: Re: Hi, Cas

Message:

Hey Cas,

Thanks so much for all your help! Those links were great! I did some research, and I think I’ve narrowed down where I want to go, and what scholarships I can possibly get. I took the SAT and got a 2310! Do you think that’ll get me into a good school? I talked about it with Uncle Bobby, and he’s going to let me use his address as my mailing address. I’m a little worried about getting the references you talked about. Most of my teachers don’t even remember my name, since I’m not in class for long. I’m hoping I can get a couple of the teachers to help me at the school I’m at now, since we’ll be staying at least until the end of the school year. Maybe Dean’s injury will do some good? I hope so. He’s such a pain in the butt right now.

Would it be alright if I sent you my essays and stuff to look over before I turn them in when I’m ready? You know a lot more about what they’re looking for than I will.

When I talked to Uncle Bobby, I mentioned what you said about him helping me talk to Dad. He thinks that it’s a bad idea to tell Dad and Dean that I’m doing this until I’ve already gotten into a school and have a full scholarship. I’m going to forge Dad’s signature on everything (don’t worry, I’ve been doing it since I was 10 and no one’s ever said anything. I think I can sign his name better than he can.) Can you do me a favor and not mention helping me to Dean? I don’t want him to get mad.

Thank you so much again. I don’t think I could figure all this out without you.

Talk to you soon,

Sam

From: cnovak@chicago.edu

To: samwin81@yahoo.com

Sun, April 21, 2000

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Hi, Cas

Message:

Sam, I am not going to lie to your brother for you. I will not bring your intentions into conversation with him, but if he asks me a direct question about it, I will tell him. I enjoy our friendship, and I am more than happy to help you in whatever way I can to better yourself, but my relationship with Dean means a great deal to me. I am not willing to jeopardize that by being untruthful to him about anything, including you.

That being said, I would like to offer you congratulations on your excellent SAT score. You’ve done very well for yourself. That is one less hurdle you will have to worry about on your journey to college entrance. It is probably, in fact, that your score and your current grade point average will be enough to garner unsolicited interested from several of the schools you hope to apply to, especially if you requested that your scores be sent to them.

As for references, I do not anticipate you having a difficult time acquiring them. You are an intelligent, hard-working student, as well as an enthusiastic learner. I believe you are correct in assuming that your extended stay in Idaho will aid you in receiving recommendations. As long as you maintain contact with several teachers you are looking to receive references from even after you leave their school, you should have little difficulty asking them to assist you. I would suggest approaching them now and explaining your situation, so that you know which teachers would be willing to take the time to work with you. The better established the teacher is within their school, as well as within the profession, the more weight their recommendation will carry with potential admissions offices, so keep that in mind.

I would be more than happy to read over your entrance essays. If you would like to write a few practice essays based off of this year’s questions, we could go over them together when I come to visit at the end of next month.

I must go. I will be driving home this evening to spend Easter with my family. I hope you have a wonderful holiday.

Sincerely,

Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter took so long! There are a lot of reasons it took so long, but those don't matter now. I should be back on track now and ready to update regularly again. Yay! As always, if you want to keep up to date with my writing or fandom life, you can follow me on [tumblr](http://ronspigwidgeon.tumblr.com/).


	11. Coming and Going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel visits Idaho Falls. Meeting John Winchester goes about as expected. The rest is fine. Until it's not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicked my ass for a number of reasons. I'm sorry it's taken so long. Life has been keeping me very, very busy lately, and fanfic just hasn't been the priority. 
> 
> Be aware that the end of this chapter is going to hurt. A lot. I'm not sorry, though. I've had it written for about a year now, and it's necessary. Canon had to raise its ugly head sometime. Most of you probably expected it. Also, there's a time gap between the rest of the chapter and the last scene. I hope it's obviously within the scene, but in case anyone gets confused, thought I'd give you a heads-up.

The drive was long and exhausting, and if Castiel had not been so desperate to see Dean as soon as possible, he would have broken it up into two days, rather than driving straight through. He stops in at the motel to check in and drop his bag off before making his way to the address Sam had texted him. They’re staying in a dilapidated apartment complex on what is obviously the bad side of Idaho Falls. If he hadn’t lived three years on the south side of Chicago, he might have been worried. As it is, he goes up to the door without hesitation and pushes the button for the apartment number he got from Sam. A gruff voice he doesn’t recognize answers.

“Hello, I’m looking for Dean Winchester. Is he available?” Cas asks, assuming this is John Winchester.

“ _Who is this?_ ”

“Castiel Novak. Dean and Sam are both expecting me.”

There is a soft curse, then a louder shout for Sam to come to the door. Castiel waits patiently. He isn’t leaving the apartment building without seeing Dean, regardless of what his father has to say on the matter. His patience pays off with a loud buzz, accompanied by the unlocking of the front door. He lets himself in and makes his way to the apartment, where Sam is standing in the doorway with a wide smile. Castiel is momentarily thrown off by how tall Sam has gotten. He’s at least half a head taller than Castiel now, though still as skinny as he’s always been.

“Hey Cas,” Sam says, “good to see you. You look exhausted, man.”

Castiel accepts the half-hug Sam offers. “I drove straight through. I wanted to see Dean. How is he?”

“I’m about ready to kill him.”

“Is he being difficult?”

“You have no idea. Come on, he’s in the living room.” Sam holds the door wide for him, and he steps inside.

The apartment is small and in obvious disrepair, but Castiel is able to ignore it upon laying eyes on Dean, sprawled across the couch with his right leg propped up across the cushions. The cast goes all the way up his thigh, ending just below his groin, a row of pins sticking out of it. There’s a pair of crutches laying across the floor next to the couch. Dean looks up as Castiel steps inside, pinning Cas with his eyes. Seeing the injury brings back all the frustration and anger with Dean he had felt when he first found out about the injury from Sam a month ago. He sets his teeth and walks over.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.” Dean glances towards the kitchen, alerting Castiel to the man leaning against the counter with a glass of dark liquid in one hand.

“Mr. Winchester,” Castiel greets him, putting his feelings for Dean, as well as his general dislike of John Winchester, aside to do the polite thing and introduce himself. He walks over to extend a hand to the man, taking the opportunity to size him up, look for any similarities to Dean. He is met with Dean’s eyes, darker with distaste, but his eyes none the same. Castiel is momentarily taken aback by them. “I’m Castiel Novak. I hope you don’t mind my visiting your sons.”

John stares at Castiel’s extended hand for a long moment before finally taking it and squeezing it harder than strictly necessary. Castiel gives as good as he gets. “Dean didn’t mention you were coming.”

“I apologize for his ill manners. I made sure to get a motel room so that I wouldn’t impose, but I hope you don’t mind my being here during the day for the next week.”

John looks like he might protest, but Castiel stands his ground. “I drove twenty-two hours straight to get here.”

John considers this, eyes narrowed on Cas. Finally, he shrugs. “I guess it’s fine. You’re sleeping at the motel?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. I’m leaving in the morning anyway.”

“Oh? I’m sorry to hear that,” he lies, glancing away. John snorts and walks off toward a hallway that must lead to the bedrooms, lifting his glass to his lips.

Castiel decides not to give the man any more of his time and goes to the couch. Dean tries to lift his leg off the couch, but Castiel stops him, helping him lift it only far enough so that he can sit underneath Dean’s knee, resting it gently over his lap. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“How do you think?” Dean asks back, scowling. It fades under Cas’ stare and he settles a little, sighing. “My pain meds quit working twenty minutes ago and the Med Nazi won’t let me have any more for another half an hour.” Dean glares in Sam’s direction, who glares right back.

“You’re gonna become dependent if you don’t watch it. You wanna be an Oxy addict?”

“I want you to mind your fuckin’ business,” Dean snaps back.

“You’re brother has a point, Dean. Those medications can be highly addictive.”

Dean groans. “Not you, too. I thought you’d be on my side. Can’t you see I’m in pain?”

“I just drove twenty-two hours for you. Do I look particularly sympathetic at the moment?” Castiel squints his eyes at him.

“Of course not. Shoulda known you’d be on Sam’s side.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “I’m on your side, Dean. I’m always on your side. Your side just happens to currently be in pain and not thinking straight.”

Dean grumbles, but he doesn’t argue further. Instead, he glances behind the couch—possibly checking for his father—and reaches over to touch Cas’ hair, running his fingers through it. “You look like a raccoon, babe.”

“I drove straight through. I didn’t want to miss any time with you.” Dean rolls his eyes, but he pulls Cas in for a soft kiss anyway, glancing behind himself again when they pull away. Castiel looks to Sam, spilling out of a threadbare armchair at a right angle to them. He has his eyes averted, but he doesn’t look uncomfortable about it. “I wasn’t expecting to be greeted by a Titan when I came to the door. You’ve grown quite a bit since the last time I saw you, Sam.”

Sam laughs, rubs the back of his neck, a fine pink tinging his cheeks. “Yeah, I finally hit a growth spurt.”

“He’s a fuckin’ giant. Not fair.”

Castiel leans closer to Dean, silently laughing at the indignation on his face. “You’re not short yourself, Dean, even lying down.”

Dean shoots him a look. “Look at him,” is all he offers, waving a hand in Sam’s direction.

“I’m happy for you, Sam. You look well.”

“Thanks, Cas. You, too. Dean’s right, though. You look like you need a good night’s sleep.”

“I’ll be fine. I just got here.”

“And you’re gonna be here a week,” Dean says, poking Cas in the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to that motel. I’ll even come with you.”

“You’ll do no such thing. You shouldn’t be getting in and out of cars, Dean. It’ll only prolong your healing.”

Dean snorts. “What, now you’re an expert on broken legs?”

“I’m an expert on yours. I did a lot of reading these last few weeks.”

“Dude, you are such a nerd,” Dean snorts again, shaking his head.

Castiel narrows his eyes at him. “Someone has to know how to take care of you. You do a horrible enough job of it yourself.”

“That’s not true—” One look from Cas cuts that line of protest off. Dean sighs and pushes at Castiel’s shoulder without much force. “Go get some sleep. Apparently I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

Castiel capitulates, but only because he is truly exhausted. He slips out from under Dean’s leg, careful not to jostle it, and leans over to give him a kiss. “You’re right. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yeah, Cas. Come by whenever you’re awake. I’ll get Sammy to make us breakfast.”

“Hey!” Sam stands in protest.

“I’ll make breakfast, don’t worry, Sam. I’ve been informed that you regularly burn toast.”

Sam deflates, sighing in relief. “Thanks.”

Castiel gives Dean one more kiss, unable to help himself. He’s still annoyed with Dean, both for getting injured and for the way he handled it afterwards, but there is no way to resist the pathetic picture he makes laying prone on the couch. There is no re-appearance of John Winchester, but Sam follows him out to the front of the building, looking a little nervous. “You didn’t have to walk me down, Sam. I live in a much worse area of Chicago than this.”

“I uh…. You said if I wrote a few samples for the college applications that you’d look at them while you’re here? I wasn’t sure I’d have another chance to give them to you without Dean seeing.” He pulls a folded sheaf of papers out of his back pocket and hands them over, blushing.

Castiel takes them, a little confused until he remembers his email. He rubs at his eyes and nods. “Yes, I’ll look at them in the morning if I can. Is it all right if I write on them?”

Sam nods quickly. "Yeah, totally. Whatever you think they need.” He hesitates, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Please don’t worry about hurting my feelings or anything. I’d rather get accepted than be right.”

“Of course, Sam. I told you I would do what I can to help you and I meant it. Make sure that Dean gets some sleep tonight, please. He looks almost as tired as I feel, though he hides it better.”

“No problem. Drive safe, 'kay?”

“Never fear. I am nothing if not a cautious driver.” And cautious he is. It takes him twenty minutes longer to get back to the motel than it did to get to the apartment. He’s asleep before his head hits the pillow.

-

When Castiel arrives the next morning, John is preparing his duffel to leave. Castiel gives him a wide birth as he begins poking in the refrigerator for things to make breakfast. Sam helps when he can, but Dean hadn’t been lying when he said Sam is a hopeless cook. It becomes clear to Castiel almost immediately that Sam can’t do much beyond putting cereal in a bowl and covering it in milk. Dean sits at the kitchen table with his leg propped on a chair and watches them, giving Cas the occasional instruction on how he likes his eggs cooked.

“How would you feel about going grocery shopping later? I want to make you both dinner,” Castiel asks as he hands Sam off the plate of bacon to be put on the table.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to get in cars, might prolong my healing.”

Castiel turns from the stove to squint at Dean. “I was talking to Sam, but in the light of day, you’d don’t look as bad as I thought. You can come, if you really want to hobble around on those crutches.”

“Hell yeah. I’m so tired of being in this freakin’ house.” Dean’s expression matches his declaration. He steals two strips of bacon and shoves them in his mouth, but even that isn’t enough to smooth his annoyance with being stuck inside.

“I’m leavin’. You know the drill,” John announces, stepping into the kitchen, pointing at Dean to make it clear he’s talking to him. Dean nods, eyes darting to the floor.

“Cas made breakfast,” Sam says, holding the bacon higher as if in offering.

John glances at it with a look of disgust and shakes his head. “I’ll eat on the road,” is his gruff reply, said over his shoulder as he walks away from them. Sam looks like he might say more, but Dean holds a hand to his wrist with a look Cas can’t read. A moment later they are alone in the apartment, and a weight slides off Castiel’s shoulders. He is angered to see both Sam and Dean’s shoulders also relax.

“Sam, can you get the plates, please,” Castiel asks, turning back to the stove to plate the eggs and turn off the fire.

An hour later, they’re in the grocery store with a cart already partially full of groceries. Dean bumps into the third display with his crutches and starts cursing too loudly for a public space. Castiel glares at him over the carton of eggs. “Watch your language. We’re in public.”

“Since when do you care about me cursing?” Dean grumbles.

“I don’t, but the mother the next aisle over probably does.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to maneuver past the cart, but Castiel catches him by the shoulder before he can. “You’re being an ass. Stop.”

Dean glares at him. “You try walking around with throbbing pain in your leg.”

“You could have stayed home. Sam and I are more than capable of buying groceries without you.”

“I wasn’t bein’ left behind like a loser.”

Castiel gives him a withering look. “Stop being a baby and go get three packets of yeast. They’re up there.” He points down the aisle to where the yeast and other bread-making supplies are sitting. He waits until Dean is moving to step away and pick up a bag of bread flour. Sam pops up with the tomato paste, three ripe tomatoes in a plastic bag, an onion, two cloves of garlic, and the spaghetti noodles. He sets them in the cart while smirking down the aisle at Dean, cursing under his breath as he reaches for the top shelf.

“What, Sam?” Castiel asks.

“Nothing. What else can I get?”

“Eggs and milk? Oh, and Parmesan cheese.” Sam nods and goes off in the opposite direction. Dean comes back still grumbling and puts the yeast in the cart. He stops when he notices Castiel staring at him.

“What?”

“Nothing. Let’s go find Sam and check out.” He pulls the cart around and starts heading in the direction of the dairy aisle. The squeak of rubber on linoleum tells him Dean is following.

“Can we get pie?”

“Can you stop acting like a dick?”

“You like my dick.”

“Not the time for flirting, Winchester.”

Dean sighs in a loud, obnoxious way. “Fine.”

Castiel turns to face him and pecks his lips, surprising him. “Thank you. Why don’t you go pick one out at the bakery, and Sam and I will meet you?”

“’Kay,” Dean says, eyes focused on Cas’ lips. Castiel gently turns him around and gives him a little push in the right direction. He finds Sam in the dairy aisle. By the time they get to the bakery, Dean has a pie in each hand and a struggle on his face.

“Blueberry or Cherry?”

Cas tilts his head, peering at Dean, wondering how he could possibly be in love with someone who can’t make a simple decision. He takes the cherry box out of Dean’s hand and puts it in the cart, then takes the other and puts it back on the shelf. “Let’s get you home. It’s almost time for your next pill.” Dean looks longingly back at the blueberry pie, but turns when Cas gives him another look and follows to the register.

-

The sound of the front door closing is like the sound of the bell tolling midnight on New Year’s Eve. Dean is pulling Cas closer immediately after and kissing him, hard and fast. “God, I thought he’d never leave,” he says between kisses. Cas laughs and situates himself on Dean’s lap, careful to put all his weight on Dean’s uninjured leg. Hands slide under his t-shirt, tracing over his spine. It’s on the floor a moment later, followed quickly by Dean’s.

“Are you sure he won’t be back?”

“He’s got a thing for the chick he’s teaching. We’ve got a couple hours at least.” Dean traces his lips up Cas’ throat, over the rim of his ear. “Why? You wanna stop?” He nips at Cas’ cheek, his smile pressed against Cas’ skin.

Cas snorts and pushes Dean sideways onto his back, climbing on top of him. “Shut up, Winchester.” He gets a smirk in response as Dean makes himself comfortable, pulling a pillow behind his head. Castiel begins trailing kisses down his chest, tickling at his armpit enough to make him squirm and try to pull back. Cas doesn’t let him, relentless until Dean is thrashing and cursing at him, trying not to laugh. He relents with a glint of his eye as he plucks at the band of gray sweatpants. Dean settles, watching. He has to maneuver around the leg, careful not to bother it and cause Dean pain that might deflate the tent he is currently hovering over.

“You gonna do something down there, or are you just visiting?” Dean asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m enjoying the view. I don’t get to see this very often.” Cas brushes his fingertips over the lump, enjoying the way it twitches under his touch. He pulls the fabric down with deliberate slowness, releasing Dean’s cock centimeter by torturous centimeter until it bobs up in front of his face, bisecting his view of Dean. He doesn’t move to touch it right away, waiting until Dean starts to squirm again and make impatient huffing noises. He licks up the underside, kitten licks that do more to infuriate Dean than pleasure him. It’s hard to hide his grin at the groans of frustration, but he ducks his head, breathing over the soft skin. Dean curses under his breath and shifts, but then he winces and Cas pulls away, alert. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, babe. Fucking get on with it. You’re making me crazy.”

“Am I?” Cas licks at the head with a wicked grin.

“Goddamnit…” Dean slams his head back against the pillow, muttering. Cas decides he’s been tortured enough and wraps his lips around the head, sliding down until it just brushed his throat. Dean curses louder, jutting his hips up, but his pleasure quickly morphs to pain. “Fuck, shit, bad move,” he says, grabbing onto the edge of his cast as though that might help ease the pain he’s caused himself. Castiel lets go of his penis with a pop to massages the skin just above the cast.

“Maybe we should wait until you’re better…”

“Shut up and get back to it, Cas. My fucking leg can fuck off.” The growl in Dean’s voice is almost arousing, but concern still swirls in Cas’ mind. He goes cautiously back to his task, watching Dean for signs of distress. It isn’t long before they’re both able to relax again, Cas beginning to bob his head as Dean moans, digs his fingers in Cas’ hair. He can feel Dean tensing, getting closer, but Dean has other ideas. He taps against Cas’ ear, alerting him again. “Get up,” he says, pushing at what he can reach of Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel complies, confused.

Dean scoots down, sitting up to pull on Cas’ jeans, unfastening them and pulling them and his underwear down. His abdominal muscles flex with the effort, entrancing Cas, who wants nothing more than to climb back over him and lick them. Once his jeans are at his feet, he steps out of them as directed. Dean stretches out again, patting the couch above his head in a confusing gesture. Castiel stays standing. “I don’t…”

“Sit on my face. I wanna lick your ass.”

“That sounds uncomfortable for you…”

“Just do it. It’ll be awesome, I promise.” Castiel does as instructed, gingerly straddling Dean’s head, careful not to kneel on his hair. Dean’s hands on his hips guide him to where Dean wants him, and the first lick of his hot tongue against Cas’ hole makes him whine in pleasure. He’s so distracted with how good it feels that he isn’t even embarrassed by the noise. Dean seals his lips over the pucker and sucks, his tongue flicking over it in little fluttering motions that make Cas’s breathing speed up.

“Oh…” he gasps, grabbing onto the couch back for balance. He looks down over Dean’s sprawled body, his leg propped up on the arm of the couch, focuses on the swollen, pink head of his cock. He wants to taste it again, wants to feel Dean shudder under him as he comes. He leans over, testing. Dean’s mouth follows his movement, never losing contact. It’s actually easier this way, bracing his elbows next to Dean’s hips, using his hands to lift the shaft just enough to make sucking it down effortless. Dean’s fingers clench on his skin, a moan audible over the sound of his slurping. Cas grins and goes back to work, stopping only for the brief moments the pleasure of Dean’s tongue becomes too much.

Fingers join the tongue, teasing, pressing inside. When Dean brushes his prostate, he has to pull off to take a breath, losing his balance for a moment and resting his cheek on Dean’s stomach. “Dean…” he whines, unable to help himself. Dean buries his fingers deeper, presses harder. Cas Lifts his head up, determined to make Dean come before he does. It becomes a competition, each of them merciless in their task.

Dean breaks first, a sharp breath and trembling limbs hailing Cas’ victory. He swallows his prize down with a triumphant grin, but he’s quickly distracted by the press of four fingers against his prostate and finds himself clutching onto Dean’s good leg for support as he falls into his own orgasm. He lays against Dean for a few minutes, collecting himself, listening to Dean’s ragged breathing above him. Dean slaps his ass lightly after a while, startling him. “Grab that blanket, will you? Don’t want Sammy getting an eye-full.”

Cas retrieves the blanket with a glare, but he is quickly soothed as Dean pulls him back down on top of him, making him straddle his hips this time, and pulls the blanket over the both of them. “Shouldn’t I put my pants back on?” he asks, balancing a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean pulls him down with a grunt. “Nap now, pants later.” He nuzzles into Cas’ hair, already half-asleep. Cas settles against him, giving himself over to the warmth and the gentle stroking of Dean’s fingers through his hair. “Missed this,” Dean mumbles somewhere above his ear. Cas smiles, strokes a finger over Dean’s bare chest.

“Me, too.”

They wake up an hour later to a distressed cry from Sam and a slammed door. Dean laughs so hard he nearly topples them both off the couch.

-

Dean insists on clunking downstairs to check over the Fairmont as best he can with his leg before letting Castiel drive back home. As frustrating as it is, it gives Castiel a little time to speak with Sam out of earshot. “You know you can email me your revisions, right?” he asks, checking that Dean is preoccupied under the massive hood, checking some fluid or another.

“Yeah, I figured out how to do that last month. Are you sure what I gave you was okay?”

“There were a few minor issues, but you have a solid start and you’re moving in the right direction. Do you know when they release this year’s application?”

“Next month.”

“And what about the recommendation letters?”

“I’ve got three teachers willing to help me out. Mr. Teague even said he’d help me fill out scholarship applications if we’re still here in the fall.”

“Do you think that likely?”

“No. Dean’s already antsy, and I know Dad’ll wanna get moving as soon as the cast is off.”

“But Dean will have physical therapy, still.”

Sam gives him a pointed look, and he sighs. It was probably too much to ask for to expect Dean to follow the doctor’s orders. “He is going to be far less mobile than he thinks.”

“He’ll figure it out.”

A slam of metal on metal so loud that it resembles a gunshot startles them both. Dean brushes his hands off with a scowl on his face, staring down the dusty hood. Castiel really should take it through a car wash, but he doesn’t drive enough to remember to do it. He turns back to Sam with a twinge of regret, disappointed that they could not have more time together. “You know you can contact me any time you need help.”

“Yeah, I got your number. Thanks again for not saying anything to Dean. He wouldn’t take this well on a good day. With the leg…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. Castiel nods in understanding and pulls him in for a hug, not caring that it isn’t manly. “Good luck. I know you will have no trouble getting in wherever you want. Keep me updated on your progress.”

“I will. Be careful driving back.”

“I will.” He pulls away and turns to join Dean, stepping into his personal space to enjoy what little more of his presence he has left. “Is it serviceable?”

“She’ll do. You sure you gotta go so soon?”

“I have work on Monday, and I start my internship at the Newberry Library next Wednesday.”

Dean scratches the back of his head. “Fine, be responsible.” He props the crutches on hood on either side of Castiel and cups Cas’ face in his hands. “You drive safe. We don’t need two of us outta commission.”

Castiel leans into his touch, fluttering his eyes shut at the touch. “I’ll be fine. You know I’m a safe driver.”

Dean presses forward, sealing their lips together. It’s warm and rough and so, so good. Cas holds onto his waist for balance, letting himself be swept away for just a moment before pushing back, giving as much as he gets. “Yeah, I’m more worried about the assholes driving around you,” Dean says as he pulls away, voice gruff with arousal.

“Don’t worry so much. I made it here just fine.” Castiel pulls him back in, concentrating on getting his lips back. Dean obliges, burying his fingers in Cas’ hair and pushing their bodies together as they kiss. Eventually, they pull apart, unable to postpone the inevitable any longer. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Me, too, babe.”

“I don’t want to hear from Sam that you’ve skipped out on your physical therapy. You have to promise me you’ll go.”

“What? Come on, Cas…”

“No, physical therapy is just as important to healing as having the cast. You want to be able to move the same way you could before, right?”

“Yeah, but…”

“No buts. You may be young, but you still need to take care of yourself. If not for yourself, then for me. I want you as athletic as possible. Understood?” He hopes the look he gives Dean is heated enough to convey his meaning.

Dean stutters and nods, his cheeks reddening just enough to show that he understands. “Yeah, I uh… yeah. I’ll try the therapy thing.”

“Thank you.” He kisses Dean once more, chaste but hard. Dean’s eyes are a little glassy when they pull back and his fingers are clutched in Cas’ hair. “I’ll call you when I stop for lunch.”

“You do that. Be careful.” He accompanies the repeated request with a press of his lips to Cas’ forehead, leaving a warm imprint that still tingles even hours later. Castiel brushes a last hand up his stomach, kisses him one final time, resists the urge to tell him that he loves him.

“I’ll talk to you soon.” Dean lets him go with a nod and grabs the crutches, using them to hobble a few feet away, space enough to let Castiel round the car and get in. The last view he sees of Dean is his waving hand in the rear-view mirror.

-

Sammy looks nervous, but sort of excited, too. Weird. “What’s up, Sammy? You look like you’re about to lose your V-card.”

“Dean,” John scolds, shooting him a look across the table.

“I uh… I sort of have some news.”

“Yeah? You meet a girl at that new school?” John asks, smiling.

Sam looks down at the papers in his hands, unsure. Dean’s starting to think maybe they aren’t the homework he’d thought they were. “No, but it is about school…”

“You aced that Trig test, didn’t you?”

Sam smiles. “Yeah, but that’s not it, either.”

“Then, what is it, son? You’re starting to worry me,” John says, setting the gun barrel he’d been cleaning down and giving Sam his full attention. Dean pushes the shell reloader away to do the same.

“Well, you know how hard I’ve been working to keep my grades up and everything. I wasn’t doing that just to do it. You know how badly I want to go to college—”

“And you know that’s not gonna happen. Where am I supposed to get the money for college? And besides, you’re a hunter. Hunters don’t go to college. They hunt. Period.”

“I don’t want to be a hunter. I want to go to school. And you don’t have to worry about where the money’s coming from because I already found enough. I’ve been offered a full ride to Stanford University, and I’m going.” He sets the papers down in front of John with a determined set to his jaw. Dean’s stomach falls right to his shoes.

John takes the papers and looks through them, frowning. He’s quiet, the kind of quiet that means bad things. Really bad things. After a few minutes, he puts the paperwork down and looks at Sam. “No,” is all he says.

Sam snaps. “I’m going whether you like it or not. I’m eighteen. I can make my own life decisions.”

“Really? Fine then. If you want to leave this family, go right ahead. But don’t expect us to welcome you back when you get into trouble. You leave, you better stay gone.”

“Fine, if that’s how you want it, then I will. After I graduate, I’ll leave and you won’t ever have to see me again.”

“Oh, you’re just gonna abandon your family, then? Just like that? We mean so little to you, Sammy?” Dean asks, standing from his chair. He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“It’s not abandonment when you’re thrown out, Dean!” Sam yells back. “All I want to do is go to college. Last I checked, that wasn’t a crime!”

“You disloyal little shit!” Dean snaps back, balling his hand up to take a swing. He almost has his hand high enough when his dad’s hands holding his arm back stop him.

“Dean, take a walk.”

“What?! But he’s the one who—” Dean cries out, turning in indignation at his father.

“Take a walk. Now.”

Dean growls, clenching his fist, but he goes. He punches the opposite wall, his fist going straight through to the drywall. He pulls it out with a sigh and shakes out the shooting pains. His knuckles are on fire, but it’s nothing to the shit storm inside his head. How the fuck is he supposed to take care of Sammy, watch out for him, if he’s not with him? Had everything he’s done for Sam meant nothing to his brother? He’d sacrificed everything for that kid, and he was just gonna leave? Fuck that.

He goes on his walk, trying not to think of all the ways he wants to beat the living hell out of his brother. He ends up in a bar, but he’s too pissed to even flirt with the bartender, and she’s all kinds of hot. He goes back to the motel after his third, intending to ignore everyone and just go to bed.

Sam’s not in the room when he gets there, and Dean slams his fist on the nearest table in frustration. How was Sam supposed to earn enough money to live on his own and finish high school, too?

“He just went for a walk. Take a seat. We need to talk,” John says, nudging the chair opposite him with his foot. Dean slumps into it without saying anything. “I know you’re angry about Sammy, so am I, but he’s not gone yet. We need to show him that his place is here with us. He’s a hunter. We need to show that to him.”

“How do we do that?”

“Bring him on more hunts with us. We’ve been letting him slack off because of school, but no more. He needs to be reminded of what’s at stake here, of how much stronger we are as a unit.”

“Okay,” Dean agrees, nodding. He doesn’t feel any conviction, though. At the moment, he doesn’t feel a whole lot of anything except the anger still simmering in the back of his brain.

“What I want to know is how he did all this behind our backs. Did you have any hint of this?”

“No, nothing. I would have told you if I thought he was applying to schools. He hasn’t said a word other than saying he wants to go.”

“Well, then, what even made him think college was an option?”

Cas. Dean’s stomach sinks at the thought. “I uh… I think I know where he got the idea.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and hits Cas’ speed dial number. Cas picks up on the second ring with his usual warm greeting, but it doesn’t send the tingles down Dean’s spine it normally does. “Hey, Cas, did you uh… has Sammy talked to you about Standford?”

“ _Yes, Dean. He asked me several months ago to assist in filling out applications and writing the necessary essays. He made me promise not to tell you, but it was hard. I know you’re as proud of him as I am._ ”

“Proud?” Dean clenches his jaw, closing his eyes to try and keep his calm. “Not exactly the word I’d use, Cas. Why didn’t you tell me? Sammy’s my responsibility, not yours. What gives you the right to just…” He punches the wall again because there’s nothing else he can do to contain his rage. How dare Cas meddle in their business?

“ _Dean, calm down. I thought you would be pleased. Sam has a full scholarship to one of the finest universities in the country, if not the world. He has worked incredibly hard, and you should be very proud of him_.”

“Yeah well, I’m not. I can’t believe you would do this to me. Jesus, Cas, I thought you…” He breaks off, unable to say it. He turns around, tugging at his hair.

“ _I don’t understand why you’re so angry, Dean._ ”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it? I don’t know why I ever thought we could work. This was a mistake.”

“ _What are you saying, Dean? I don’t understand._ ” He sounds it, too, confused and a little frantic with worry.

“Lose my number, that’s what I’m saying. We’re done. Don’t call me, and stay the FUCK away from Sam, do you understand me?”

“ _But Dean, please… I don’t understand…I lo—_ ” Dean hangs up before he can hear the rest and chucks the phone against the wall as hard as he can. It shatters into a hundred pieces, denting the wall on impact. Dean ignores it. He’s shaking with rage. He turns, freezes at the look in John’s eyes. _Fuck_.


	12. Unsent Messages and New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean both deal with the break-up in their own ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning to update this on Sunday like usual, but I'm drunk and it's ready, so Happy Birthday, here you go!

 When Avery finds him, Castiel is curled up in a ball on the couch, staring at the blank screen of the television as though it just swallowed his baby sister. There are tear tracks staining his cheeks and his eyes are bloodshot and rimmed in red. His mobile phone is laying open and blank on the floor near his feet. Avery rushes to his side and falls to her knees on the carpet next to his head. 

“Sweetheart, what happened?” she asks, brushing the hair out of his face.

“I think Dean just broke up with me,” he tells her, more tears falling from his eyes.

She curls around him, petting his hair. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.” She presses a kiss to his forehead, an attempt to be soothing, he knows, but the touch burns instead. She sits back up to look him in the eyes. “But what do you mean, you ‘think’ he broke up with you?”

“He was angry about Sam getting into Standford.” He sits up sniffling, grabbing for a tissue to wipe at his face. He knows he probably looks like a complete mess. “I thought he would be excited. Proud. It’s not every day someone like Sam gets a full ride to a top-ten school.” Cas feels the tears coming back again, swelling in his chest and threatening to drown him. “He yelled at me, told me we’re done and that I should lose his number. And also that I should stay away from Sam.” His voice is thick with tears he fails to hold back. His whole body hurts like he’s missing a limb.

Avery sits back on her heals, a frown on her face. “Wait, he’s mad you helped his little brother get a full ride to Stanford? What the hell?”

“I don’t know, Avery. He’s always been very protective of Sam, but I thought he would be happy to see Sam get into a good school. He’ll be able to secure an excellent job once he’s out, and he won’t have to travel around like a nomad with their alcoholic father anymore. I thought Dean would like that. I thought…” He smiles in mockery of himself, wiping at the fresh tears. He had been so stupid. “I thought maybe if Sam had a place to settle, that Dean might want to settle, too.”

“I’ve never gotten the impression that Dean’s the settling type.”

“Yeah, well. Desperate here.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but maybe this is a good thing. Dean’s a good guy and all, but maybe now you can find someone a little more stable.”

Cas sighs and picks at the blanket. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“I know.” She kisses his temple and pets his hair again, pressing her forehead to his. There isn’t much else to say after that, but Avery sits with him anyway.

 

/

 

“ _How’s my favorite brother?_ ” Christine asks, voice perky in a way that Castiel isn’t used to hearing from her lately.

“I’ve been better.” He wants to ask how she is, deflect the conversation from him, but Christine doesn’t let him.

“ _What happened? You sound like someone died._ ”

He sighs, rubs his face, tries to keep himself from crying as he says it. “Dean broke up with me.”

 _“What? I thought you guys were so happy. You were all lovey-dovey when I heard you talking to him at Thanksgiving._ ”

“It’s… complicated.”

“ _I can handle complicated. Hit me._ ”

“He um… I told you he has a younger brother?”

“ _Sam, right? Super smart, bigfoot-tall?_ ”

“Yes. A little before Dean had his accident last year, Sam asked me for help trying to get into college. I gave him what advice I could, and earlier this month he got an early acceptance letter from Standford.”

“ _Woah, look at him. That’s expensive, though. I thought his dad was an out-of-work drunk?_ ”

“He is, but that doesn’t matter. Sam got a full scholarship.”

Christine whistles. “ _Good for him._ ”

“I thought so, too, but neither Dean nor his father want Sam to go. I got a phone call two nights ago asking if I’d helped Sam. When I told Dean that I had, he told me that we were done and I should lose his number.”

Christine is quiet for a long moment, time enough for Castiel to rein in the suffocating feeling swelling in his chest. “ _Fuck him, then. I don’t think your boyfriend’s supposed to be pissed at you for making his life better._ ”

Castiel says nothing, because really, there’s nothing he can say. He can’t argue with her. She’s right. But it doesn’t stop the pain in his chest or the horrible sense of dread that rushes through him every time he thinks of Dean.

“ _Cas, I get it. You were with him a long time, but try to look on the bright side. Now you’ll be able to find someone better._ ”

“There’s no one better for me than Dean,” he says without hesitation.

 _“Closer then, someone who can be there for you whenever you need him. Someone you can see more than twice a year. Maybe someone you could think about building a life with._ ”

“I want to do that with Dean.”

“ _Was that ever really an option, though? Did he ever give you any indication that he was the settling-down type?_ ”

“I realize that I am being unreasonable. I can’t help myself, Christine. I love him.”

“ _And I loved Bookie Bear, but eventually, I had to let him go and move on._ ” Castiel has a momentary flash of Christine throwing out her pink, thread-bare rabbit with one dangling eye the day she moved away to college. She’d sobbed for half an hour, but then she’d gotten over it.

“That isn’t the same. Dean was my partner. Bookie Bear was a stuffed rabbit.”

“ _I was trying to lighten the mood. I know this is hard, but you’ll get passed it. And you’ll find some cute guy on campus who will take you on real dates and buy you flowers and make you feel special. Maybe one day you’ll even be able to bring him home to meet Mom and Dad. Hell, maybe one day you’ll even be able to marry him._ ”

Castiel scoffed, shaking his head though his sister could not see him. “I don’t know that Mom and Dad would appreciate finding out their son is gay, let alone meeting my boyfriend.”

“ _I think they’d accept a lot more than you think they would. They’ve always said they love us no matter what. I believe that._ ”

Castiel picks at the edge of his notebook, unable to find the words to express his thoughts. Christine waits him out. “I thought about coming out at Christmas.”

“ _You should have._ ”

“Dean thought I should wait until I’ve finished school, in case they withdraw their support.”

“ _We’ve already established that Dean’s an idiot. If you’re ready to tell them, I think you should._ ”

“Maybe.” He knows his voice is weak, laden with the empty pit of his heart. He closes his eyes, takes a breath.

“ _It’ll be okay, Castiel._ ”

He hopes she’s right, even as his heart whisper that nothing will ever be right again.

 

/

 

Message Status: Draft

~~From: cnovak@chicago.edu~~

~~To: impala67@yahoo.com~~

~~Friday, January 3,2001~~

~~Subject: I Miss You~~

~~Message:~~

~~Hello Dean,~~

~~I know that you do not read your email, but this is the only form of communication I can be sure you have not blocked me on yet. I wanted you to know that I miss you, almost more than my heart can take. I feel an ache in my chest every time I hear your name. I never thought it was possible to love someone as much as I love you. I should have told you. Maybe then you wouldn’t have…~~

~~I’ve decided to come out to my parents. My sister thinks that they will accept me regardless, and I think it is time. My mother doesn’t understand why I am upset when I talk to her, and I cannot explain. I will write again to let you know how it goes.~~

~~I love you and hope you are staying safe.~~

~~Yours, always,~~

~~Castiel~~

 

/

 

Castiel stares off into space, thoughts of Dean flooding every crevice of his mind. It’s been a month and no contact. He’s tried calling, left message after message, but still nothing.

“Hey, Castiel, right?” a voice asks from right in front of him. Castiel blinks out of his thoughts and squints up at the guy standing in front of him. He’s in Castiel’s Reference Services class, but they’ve never spoken.

Castiel musters a smile, but he knows it’s weak. “Good afternoon. How are your classes going?” he asks, holding his hand out for the book the guy’s holding.

“Pretty good so far, nothing too challenging,” he answers, shrugging with a smile as he hands Castiel his card.

Castiel nods and scans the card, noting that his name is Ryan Martinez, and checks the book out for him. “You’re Ryan, am I correct?”

“Yeah, nice to finally… meet you, I guess.” There’s a faint pink to his cheeks, but Castiel doesn’t know if that’s their natural hew or due to embarrassment.

“It’s nice to meet you as well. Here’s your book back. It’s due in at the end of the semester. If it is recalled before that time, you have one week within which to return it.”

“Thanks.” Ryan takes the books back, hesitating over it a moment. “Would you like to get coffee sometime?”

Castiel freezes, staring at him. Is he being asked out? “Are you asking me out?”

Ryan blushes, smiling shyly at his shoes. “Yeah, dumb, I know. You’re way out of me league, but I had to try. Sorry.”

Castiel frowns, tilts his head in confusion. Ryan is very attractive. There is no reason to think Castiel is out of his league. Castiel knows himself, knows how strange and socially awkward he is. He is also still heartbroken, but perhaps… “No, you’re mistaken. I believe I would enjoy having coffee with you.”

“Awesome, that’s… great. Can I pick you up after work? When do you get off?”

“I will be finished at six.”

“Is that too late for coffee? Maybe dinner instead?” He looks anxious. Castiel thinks he might see sweat on his brow. It makes Castiel himself less anxious. He offers a smile.

“I do not believe it is ever too late for coffee. We could go to Hollowed Grounds.”

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good.”

“I will see you at six, then,” Castiel says, smiling at the student waiting impatiently behind him. Ryan glances behind him and startles at the girl standing there. “Oh, sorry. Okay, I’ll meet you on the front steps at six.” He steps out of the girl’s way with a little wave and leaves. Castiel greets the student and takes her returned books, a tiny smile of satisfaction on his face. Avery will be pleased. He ignores the tiny voice in his head reminding him that the last time someone was waiting for him on the steps of the library, it was Dean with a bouquet of flowers.

 

/

 

Message Status: Draft

~~From: cnovak@chicago.edu~~

~~To: impala67@yahoo.com~~

~~Wednesday, March 2, 2001~~

~~Subject: Someone New~~

~~Message:~~

~~Hello Dean,~~

~~I met someone new today. His name is Ryan. We have several library classes together, but today was the first time we spoke. He asked me out for coffee, and I went. I enjoyed myself. Ryan is sweet and kind and a perfect gentleman. The opposite of you, I suppose. I haven’t decided if I want to be with him yet or not, but there is possibility, and I never thought there would be again.~~

~~I love you and miss you.~~

~~Yours, always,~~

~~Castiel~~

 

/

 

Hearts. There were hearts everywhere. Pre-printed paper ones taped to the bar mirrors, tissue paper ones fluttering down from the ceiling. There were even little foam ones stuck onto every glass served. The effect was ridiculous, but Dean is good at ignoring the things he wants to. He eyes the prospects, zeros in on a pretty woman wearing too much make-up and a top so low-cut he can almost see her nipples. _Perfect._ He gets up, takes his drink with him.

“No one as pretty as you should ever drink alone,” he says in a low voice, leaning into the woman’s shoulder to warm her ear with his breath. She turns, takes a look at him, and smiles wide.

“Are you planning to fix that for me?”

“I am.”

The next morning, He doesn’t remember her name or even what color her hair was, but that doesn’t matter. He pops another happy pills and heads back to the motel before she wakes up.

Sam scowls at him when he walks in, but Dean ignores him, heading for the shower without a word. “Dean, come on. You haven’t slept at home once since I told you about college. You look like a mess. What’s going on with you?” Sam blocks his path, not letting him get into the bathroom.

Dean just glares. “What do you care, Sammy? You’re leaving anyway. I’m not your problem anymore.”

“Oh, fuck off. You’re my brother and you look like shit. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Sammy, just doing my thing.”

“No, this isn’t normal. Your pupils are dilated. You smell like you fell in a vat of cheap beer. What would Cas say?”

Dean clenches his fist, holding himself back from throwing a punch by the skin of his teeth. “Cas can fuck off, and so can you. Get out of my way before I knock you over.”

Sam doesn’t budge. “Did you break up with Cas?”

What little patience he was clinging to frays and snaps at the question. He clocks Sam, knocking him just far enough out of the way to get passed him and the door closed before his nosy ass can butt in again.

 

/

 

Sam is beyond worried about Dean, and their dad isn’t helping, just finding more hunts and ignoring the insane hours Dean’s keeping. Sam thought he might say something about the pot, let alone whatever else Dean’s been taking, but John stays quiet as long as it doesn’t mess up the job. If this is going to get fixed, it’s going to have to be done by Sam. He waits until Dean and John are both gone to call the only person he can think of to help.

“ _Hello, Sam_ ,” Cas says as soon as he picks up.

“Hey, Cas, long time, no talk.”

“ _I apologize for that. Your brother has requested I cease contact with you._ ”

Sam is surprised by that, but only until he realizes that Dean probably blames Cas for Sam’s decision to leave. “I’m calling about Dean, actually. He’s a mess without you.”

“ _I’ve been a bit of a mess myself, Sam. That’s what happens when two people break up._ ”

“But you don’t understand, Cas. He’s been sleeping with all kinds of people. He’s drunk all the time. I think he started smoking pot, maybe other stuff.”

Cas stops him before he can go on. “ _I’m sorry to hear that, Sam, but there isn’t anything I can do about it. Dean decided to end our relationship, and he was very clear about that decision. I don’t know what you want me to do._ ”

“Talk to him. Make him see reason. I know you love him. Tell him. He’s being a stubborn ass, but I know he loves you, too. He’s falling apart without you.”

Castiel sighs, and the way his voice squeaks, Sam thinks he might be near tears. “ _I’ve already tried, Sam. He isn’t interested. I wish I could do more, but it isn’t what he wants_.” He stops for a second, and Sam hears what sounds like a choked sob. “ _I have to go. I promised Dean I would not have contact with you. Please do not call me again. Good luck at school. I’m sure you’ll do well._ ”

Sam feels like he might be drowning and his last life line has just been pulled. “Thanks, Cas. You uh… you, too.” Cas doesn’t say anything more and the dial tone sounds again before he can think of anything. Sam stares off into the middle distance, trying to figure out what to do next. Nothing comes to him. He can’t not go to school, and it sounds like Cas is a dead end.

A noise in the bed next to him attracts his attention. Maybe if he talked to Dad about it, laid out what he thought Dean was doing? He’s never abandoned Dean like this before.

 

/

 

Message Status: Draft

~~From: cnovak@chicago.edu~~

~~To: impala67@yahoo.com~~

~~Wednesday, February 21, 2001~~

~~Subject: Sam~~

~~Hello Dean,~~

~~I know that you asked me not to talk to Sam, but he called me today to talk to me about you. He is worried about you. He says that you are drinking too much and using drugs. I know you will never listen to me, but I would like you to stop. I understand that you have been taught by your father that the only coping mechanism for pain is alcohol, but that is not healthy, Dean. You have so much potential for good, to be good. I hate to think that you might be squandering it just to turn out like your father. I know you love your father dearly, but his is not a life to strive for. You are so much better than that. If you are trying to forget me, please just come back to me. I would rather grovel at your feet for a decade than see you destroy yourself. If this is because Sam is leaving, you can go with him. Please go with him. Be the best version of yourself you can be. Just please, please don’t do this. Take care of yourself. You won’t let me do it for you.~~

~~I love you very much. Please be safe.~~

~~Yours, always,~~

~~Castiel~~

/

Kissing Ryan is different than kissing Dean, more gentle, careful. Ryan touches him as though he were something precious, made of glass and easily breakable. Dean used to grip him so hard he’d leave bruises. Castiel thinks he might grow to miss the bruises, just as he misses every other part of Dean. They’re sprawled out in Cas’ bed, Ryan’s fingers creeping up the back of his shirt, tugging the material with it. Cas knows what he’s angling for. If this were Dean, the shirt would already be off, as would his pants, but this isn’t Dean, and he feels his stomach start to clench in nerves. He pulls up a little.

“Can we, uh… slow down a little?” he asks, knowing he sounds meek and just a hair shy of juvenile.

Ryan’s dark eyes soften from their lust-blown state, and he moves his hand out from under Castiel’s shirt, brushing his fingertips along Cas’ cheekbone. “Of course, sorry. It’s easy to get lost in you.”

Castiel blinks, tilts his head. He used to feel that way about Dean, but this didn’t feel anywhere near that intense. At least not to him. “It’s okay. I’m just… I probably should have explained things sooner.” He sits up on his heels, putting a little more distance between them, careful.

“Explained what?” Ryan sits up, straightening his clothes a little as he settles against the pillows. There’s a little crease between his eyebrows that hadn’t been there the moment before.

“Until two months ago, I was in a long-term, long-distance relationship. It didn’t end well, and I’m not over it.” He might never be over it, he thinks, mentally sighing.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea. You should have told me; I wouldn’t have pushed you to go out with me. I’ll uh… I’ll go.” He starts to get up, but Castiel takes hold of his wrist, staying him.

“I’m still not over him, but I want to try. I like you quite a lot. I’d like to try. I just need to go very slowly.” He looks down at his hand, loosely circling Ryan’s tan wrist. “I know it’s a lot to ask.”

“I can be patient. You really want to try to be with me?”

“Yes, I do. I like being with you.”

The corner of Ryan’s mouth lifts up. “I like being with you, too.” They look at each other for a long moment, exchanging more than words can express. Castiel thinks maybe he can find himself again with Ryan, figure out who he is without Dean. Five minutes ago, he wouldn’t have even thought there was a version of himself he could be that didn’t include Dean. But he can try, can’t he?

“Wanna watch a movie?” Ryan asks.

“I don’t have a television.”

“I brought my laptop. We could borrow a movie from Avery or Neil.”

“Alright. I’ll go ask them.” He gets up to ask, pausing to kiss Ryan on the cheek. Twenty minutes later, they’re stretched out on the bed, curled in on each other, the laptop balanced on Ryan’s lap, watching a movie about a fish trying to find his son.

 

/

 

The two guys aren’t much help with his case, but that doesn’t stop Dean from taking up their party invite. He loves a good frat party. Three hours and a dodged lecture from Sam later, Dean’s filling his cup with more cheap beer while the girl behind him taps her foot in impatience. “Having trouble, there?” a sharp voice asks,

Dean turns with a smirk, just managing not to spill his beer on her. “Got somewhere to be, sweetheart?” Everything’s a little fuzzy and spinning, but he is still struck dumb by her beauty. A tight jean skirt and a tighter tank top show off plenty of her warm, tan skin and her hair is a force all of its own. Dean immediately imagines running his fingers through it.

She rolls her eyes, pushing past him to get to the keg. “I have no patience for drunk frat boys.”

“You think I’m a frat boy? I’m flattered. It’s because I’m so handsome, right? I think it’s because I’m so handsome.”

She gives him a once-over over her shoulder and snorts. “You keep thinking that, Van Wilder.” She moves to walk away, but Dean can’t let her go that quickly. Something about her draws him to her like a bee to pollen. She pauses in the kitchen doorway and eyes him. “Are you following me?”

“’Course. Can’t deprive you of my sparkling presence, now can I?”

She rolls her eyes, but she isn’t walking away, so Dean counts it as a win. “How are you even standing right now?”

“I gotta lotta practice.”

“I’m sure you do. You look the type.”

“I’m wounded.”

“You’re about to be woozy if you don’t get off my ass so I can go dance.”

“I can dance. I love to dance.”

“I’m not letting your drunk ass anywhere near me,” she says, but the way she’s looking tells him she isn’t completely disinterested.

“Why not? Afraid you won’t be able to get enough once you’ve got me?” he asks, stepping into her personal space. She looks up at him with big, gorgeous brown eyes, having to crane her neck a little because he’s that much taller than her. He can feel the heat radiating off her, can almost see it, but that’s probably the ecstasy talking.

“How high are you right now?” she asks with a skeptical squint of her eyes. He hasn’t seen anyone look at him like that since Cas, and it makes him want to kiss her until she forgets her own name.

“Very. Wanna join me?”

“No thanks. I’m not trying to run from my problems. I like to face them head-on.”

Dean cocks his head, making himself a little dizzy in the process. “What makes you think I’m running from my problems?”

“Oh please,” she snorts. “You’ve got my-girlfriend-just-dumped-me-and-I’m-trying-to-pretend-it-doesn’t-bother-me written all over your face. I’m not a rebound, and I’m not interested in anyone with drug problems.” She turns to walk away, but he instinctively grabs her wrist, pulling her gently back.

“Wait,” he says. She raises an eyebrow at him and does as he asks, giving him a penetrating stare that is the wrong side of intimidating. Dean folds like a napkin. “Fine, I’ve got issues. It’s complicated. Maybe I like to self-medicate. Doesn’t mean I’m interested in you as a rebound.”

She continues to consider him, those eyes boring into him. “If you can keep your hands to yourself, you can dance.”

Dean immediately puts his hands behind his back, grinning. “You can tie ‘em if you like.” He gets a smack in the stomach for his cheek, but she doesn’t stop him from following her towards the living room.

 

/

 

Message Status: Draft

~~From: cnovak@chicago.edu~~

~~To: impala67@yahoo.com~~

~~Monday, April 16,2001~~

~~Subject: Easter~~

~~Happy Easter,~~

~~I came out to my parents on Saturday. There were a lot of tears and a little bit of shouting, but in the end it went well. Christine was right. They love me regardless of my sexual orientation. Neither of my parents is ready to join a PFLAG group by any means, but they are supportive. I’m not ready to bring Ryan home to them yet, and I didn’t tell them about you, but I think with time, things will turn out well.~~

~~I wish you had been there to hold my hand, though. I wish I had been able to bring you with me, introduce you to them, let them see what a beacon of light you are. I miss you every day. Every time my phone rings, a small part of me hopes that it’s you. It never is. I hope you are being safe. Please come back to me.~~

~~Yours, always,~~

~~Castiel~~

 

/

 

When Dean opens his eyes the next morning, his headache is so horrible that it messes with his equilibrium and he immediately has to find the nearest sink. When he’s done puking, he presses his head against the cool surface of the bathroom mirror and tries to remember what happened last night. There was beer, lots of beer. And ecstasy, he remembers scoring that from a frat boy with four popped collars and douchebag practically tattooed on his forehead. Hair. He remembers big, black, curly hair, soft and fluffy. He doesn’t think he got to touch the hair, though. He rubs at his face, pauses when he sees the writing on the back of his hand. _Cassie 740-458-2286._ “Oh.” A flood of memories trample over him, all fighting to be the one he focuses on. She’d given him so much shit, and she’d been so beautiful, he was worried she might be a goddess in disguise. And fuck was that cheesy to think. He hadn’t said that to her, right? He tries to think back, doesn’t think he did. His skin is buzzing with the memory of her. He has to talk to her again, see her. He hasn’t wanted to talk to someone so badly since— He refuses to think about it, pulls out his phone, dials before he can even register what he's doing.

“ _Hello?_ ” a feminine voice he recognizes asks.

“Cassie?” Dean asks, hoping he got it right.

“ _Speaking, who’s this?_ ”

“Dean, from the party last night?”

“ _Dean, oh, hey. I didn’t think you’d be up this early, or that you’d remember me._ ”

“How could I forget a gorgeous face like yours?”

“ _Oh, so you only remember my face, huh? Way to make a girl feel special._ ”

“You like it.”

She doesn’t answer him, but he can sense her smile over the phone. “ _What can I help you with, Dean?_ ”

“You could do me a huge favor and go to dinner with me.”

“ _Dinner, huh? You don’t seem like the dinner type._ ”

“Food is one of my favorite things.” She hums, and he waits a few more seconds before asking again. “So, dinner?”

There’s another pause. “ _Pick me up at 8:00._ ”

“Done. You’re gonna love my car.”

“ _Goodbye, Dean._ ” She hangs up before he can say more. When he pulls the phone away, he’s grinning like an idiot.

/

Castiel enjoys laying in the grass and staring up at the sky. He feels closer to God this way, more connected with the earth and the spiritual, more grounded. He watches an industrious bee buzz by above his head and wonders what it must be like to be a creature with such clear, unwavering purpose.

His gaze—as well as his train of thought—is interrupted by that of his boyfriend, smiling down at him as though from atop a skyscraper, his hands full of books. “There you are. Avery said she thought you’d be on the Quad.”

“I like watching the sky.”

Ryan crouches, then sits next him, setting his books down on the grass. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” He lays an arm out in invitation and Ryan stretches out next to him, laying his head in the crook of Castiel’s arm. His body is a warm, solid weight against Castiel’s. They watch the sky for a long while without speaking, each lost in his own thoughts. Eventually, Ryan arches his neck to look at Castiel.

“I thought you were going to grad school this fall, but Avery said you’re keeping your lease?”

“I am doing both, didn’t I tell you?” He pauses a moment, remembers that he’d talked at length with Dean about his plans, but they had never come up with Ryan. “The University of Illinois has an excellent online program. I’ll be able to stay here and continue my work at Regenstein while completing my degree. The university is even subsidizing my tuition.”

“Really? That’s awesome.” His smile is all goofy and pleased when he arches his neck to look up at Castiel. “Does that mean we can keep doing… this?”

“That depends. Are you staying in the city?”

“Yeah, I’m going to stay at CPL for now, work a while before I get my MLIS.”

“Then, I suppose it does. Unless you don’t want to continue?” Castiel had been teasing, but Ryan sits up on his elbow in one fast motion and looks down at Castiel with concern, brows knitted together in concern.

“Of course I want you.” He leans down to kiss Castiel, combing a hand through his hair and leaning over him on his elbow. Cas kisses back, a giddy feeling fluttering inside him. He never thought anyone would want to stay, and yet here Ryan is. Steady and eager to be with him, to make a life with him even. It feels nice. He pretends not to hear the small, constant voice whispering at the back of his brain, reminding him of all the ways Ryan isn’t Dean.

/

He gets the call at 5:30 in the morning, and Cassie’s barely coherent when he tells her he has to leave, bleary-eyed and blinking at him from the bed they’ve shared for almost a month. Every atom in his body wants to crawl back in bed with her and pretend he never heard his dad’s voice, but there’s a monster killing people, and Dad needs him.

“I’m sorry, baby, I gotta go. My dad needs my help.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

“Boston.”

She pauses, peers at him. “He wants you to drive all the way to Boston today? Did someone die?”

Dean sighs, shaking his head. She’s not going to understand, and he doesn’t have a good answer. “Maybe? It’s uh… it’s kind of complicated.”

“Well, are you coming back?” she asks, sitting up to lean against his back, her warm hands cupping his shoulders, holding him close to her.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“When?”

“I uh… I’m not sure. It sort of depends on what’s happening with my dad and Sammy.”

“Well, are we talking days or weeks?”

“Months, maybe?”

“What?” She pulls away, tugs the sheet closer to hide her naked chest, frowning at him. She’s fully awake now, he can see.

“I told you, it’s complicated.”

“Explain it to me.”

“I can’t. It’s a secret. I’m sorry.” He tugs at his hair, frustrated that he can’t just tell her, and also a little that she can’t just accept things. Cas always could. He might not have been happy about it, but he knew when to let things go.

“So, what, you’re just going to up and leave, possibly for months, and you can’t tell me why because it’s a secret? Really, Dean?” He can feel her eyes on him, dismantling without saying a fucking word.

He groans, slumping with his elbows resting on his knees. “You wanna know why I gotta leave? There’s a monster killing grandmas in Boston, and my dad needs me to help him figure out what’s doing the killing before another little old lady kicks it,” he says, too fucking tired and warn down from everything that’s happened in the last few months to care about the lie anymore. A part of him hopes she’ll believe him, but the rest knows that she won’t. Why would she? He sounds crazy even to his own ears.

She makes a frustrated noise and gets out of bed, pulling clothes on with vicious anger. “You could at least tell me the truth, asshole. I thought we were building something here.”

“I did tell you the truth! That’s what’s going on, that’s why I don’t know how long it’ll take. It might take us weeks just to figure out what the fucker is, and then who knows how long to gank it. I’m sorry, it’s just the way things are.”

“The way things are? Do you realize how crazy you sound right now? That doesn’t make any sense. There are no monsters in the world, Dean. Just people.” She pauses, eyes him up and down. He wants to argue, but he can’t find the words. He’s never talked to anyone about hunting who wasn’t either a hunter or dealing with something that needed to be hunted. He flounders, unsure how to fix this, how to make her understand. He can’t lose her, too. Not after…

“Are you a serial killer? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” she asks finally, taking a step away from him.

Dean snorts, shakes his head. It probably looks that way to an outside, but no. “No, I’m not a serial killer, sweetheart. I’m a hunter.”

“Oh, a hunter, huh? And what do you hunt? Let me take a guess, it isn’t dear.” The way her hair bounces out from her head makes it appear to be swelling, growing with her anger. It makes her look like a lion about to bite his head off. It should be sexy, but it scares him too much, and not in the good way.

“Ghosts. Werewolves. I came here for a banshee, stayed for you.” He adds the last in a quiet, cracked voice that he doesn’t recognize. Something’s growing in his chest, huge and scary, something that he knows has been building for months now, since… since Cas. He swallows it down, forcing it. Now isn’t the time.

Cassie laughs, mocking and ugly. “Werewolves? Really? And I’m supposed to believe this? Wow, Dean, that’s a new one. If you didn’t care about me, all you had to do was say so. You don’t have to make up some bullshit excuse if you want to go. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

“I don’t care about you? Are you serious?” The thing that’s swelling snarls, bucking at his chest, forcing him to confess. “I’ve only ever felt this way about one other person before, and I…” He resists the urge to punch a wall. She doesn’t deserve to have to pay for the damages, and he doesn’t want to scare her any more than he already has. “Look, I didn’t even tell Cas about this, and we were together for a lot longer,” he insists, trying to grab her bicep, hoping to make her understand him.

“Cas who?” she snaps, snatching her arm back from his touch.

Dean immediately backs off, even more self-conscious than he already was. “Cas was my uh… my long-term thing.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Her name was Cas, too? Really, Dean? Do you have a fetish or something? Maybe you are a serial killer. Is this your way of telling me it’s my turn?”

Dean sets his jaw, clenching his fist. “His name was Castiel. I can’t help it if I fall for two people named Cas. I’m not a fucking serial killer. I kill monsters, not people.” He gives her a wounded look, self-hatred and hurt curling in his chest. “I would never hurt you. I thought you knew that.”

“I thought I knew a lot of things about you, too, Dean, but it turns out I was wrong. You’re crazy. Get out and don’t come back. I’m not dealing with this shit.” She throws his shirt hard at his chest and walks out, slamming the bathroom door behind her. He hears the shower a minute later. His heart is breaking, he thinks, but there isn’t much he can do about it. She didn’t believe him. Who would? It’s not like he could show her, at least not without putting her in danger. And he doesn’t have time, anyway. His dad needs him. He gets dressed quickly and leaves, making sure that the door is locked behind him and that he has everything he brought with him.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he’s twenty miles down the highway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas is going to be going through the same graduate program I went through. I’m aware that in 2003, this program looked different than it did while I was completing it in 2010-2012, and looks even more different now. I’m guessing at what his program would have looked like based on conversations I’ve had with past alum, but if you or someone you know graduated from the online GSLIS program at U of I during this time period and know where I’ve missed the mark, please let me know.


	13. Smoke on the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's life is just starting to settle into something close to normal. He has a boyfriend. He can wake up in the morning without an ever-present ache in his heart. Life is starting to gain some of its color again. And then Sam Winchester goes to college.

“Damn, you two are cute,” Avery says as she surveys them curled together on the couch. She’s dressed in her shortest skirt and a slinky top that barely covers her breasts and the skin just above her belly button.

“Thank you. You look like you are heading to Studio 54,” Castiel responds, smirking.

Avery rolls her eyes. “You sound like—” she cuts off, shaking her head. “Nevermind. I’m off to the club. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Castiel nods, his stomach clenching. The image of Dean flashes in front of his eyes. He cuddles closer to Ryan and waves at Avery. “Don’t do anything crazy, and be careful.”

“No worries, I got my girls and my very best friend at my side.” She pulls her sparkly pink tube of mace from her teeny tiny purse and waves it at them, grinning. “Night, gentlemen.”

“Night, Avery. Be careful,” Ryan says after her as she saunters out the door. “She certainly doesn’t leave anything to the imagination,” he says after the door’s closed, and they’re alone for the first time in a week.

“She is her own person. What shall we do with the apartment all to ourselves tonight? Neil’s sleeping over at Maria’s, so it’s just us.”

Ryan grins, leaning into Castiel’s face. “I can think of a few things.”

“Oh yeah?” Castiel closes the last inch and presses their mouths together. Even after six months together, Ryan’s kisses are still soft and tentative, like he is always asking permission to touch Castiel, unlike Dean, who took with a possessive aggression that matched Castiel’s own. Despite the hesitation, they are good, sweet. Castiel slides closer, lifting up to straddle Ryan’s knee, raising his hands into Ryan’s soft hair. Ryan groans, pulling him closer by his belt. It’s just getting good when three knocks interrupt them, quick and confident, followed by four more in quicker succession… was that ‘Smoke on the Water’?

Castiel is up and at the door in less time than it takes Ryan to realize he’s gone. He pulls open the door to find Dean Winchester leaning against his door frame. He looks awful, eyes red-rimmed and puffy like he hasn’t slept and his left eye is bruised. His clothes are dirty and wrinkled, and he’s holding himself stiffly despite the leaning, like he’s been cramped in the car driving around for a long time without any breaks. Despite all of it, he’s still the most beautiful thing Cas has ever seen. “Dean?”

Dean musters up a tired smile. “Hey Cas. You haven’t heard from Sammy lately, have you?”

Cas frowns, confused. “You told me not to talk to your brother, and I have respected your wishes.”

Dean slumps a little. “Of course, the one time you actually listen to me…”

“What’s the matter, Dean? Is Sam alright?”

“No—Yes—I don’t know. He’s gone, took off. He didn’t even leave a note or anything. His duffel was just gone, and he’s not answering his cell. I’ve been looking all over the place, but I can’t find him. I was sort of hoping you’d know where he was.”

Something clicks in Castiel’s head, and he understands where Sam is and also why he might have left without telling Dean where he was going. “Dean, Standford began classes two days ago. He’s probably at school.”

Cas watches as Dean shifts his jaw, the muscle in his cheek clenching. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of. Thanks, Cas.” His eyes flick past Castiel to Ryan, still sitting on the couch watching them. Cas had forgotten he was there. “Looks like I was interrupting. Sorry about that. I’ll see you around.” He knocks on the door frame and turns around with one final, lingering look at Cas, like he was just a neighbor asking for sugar and not the love of Castiel’s life walking back into it after an eight-month absence.

Cas feels his world start to crumble, but this time he’s not letting it happen. He ignores Ryan and grabs onto Dean’s shoulder, turning him around and pulling him into the apartment. “Dean Winchester, if you think for even a moment that you can walk back into my life after not a word for eight months, and then walk back out again, you are dearly mistaken. Find a seat. We’re going to talk.” He shoves Dean towards the couch, turning his attention to Ryan with a forced smile. He hates to have to do this, but there is no choice in the matter. “Ryan, I apologize, but I will have to cut our evening short. I will see you on Tuesday.”

Ryan is eying Dean like he might have a gun. Castiel can’t even say for certain that he doesn’t. Ryan gets up from the couch as Dean nears him, barely paying Ryan any attention as he slumps on the other side of it and buries his face in his hands. “Castiel, are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Ryan asks, edging towards Cas, brows furrowed.

“Yes. Dean and I have quite a lot to discuss, and I would prefer that we converse in private. Again, I apologize for the sudden cessation of our evening, but this is very important.”

His expression crumples, understanding fading the light in his eyes and leaving him looking a bit like a sad puppy. “Right, yeah, okay. I’ll uh… I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“I will see you on Tuesday,” Cas insists, giving him a significant look. He would feel guilty for giving Ryan the brush-off, but all his focus is concentrated on Dean.

Ryan nods, attempts to kiss Cas goodnight on his way past, but Cas slips from his grasp and goes to Dean, kneeling on the couch cushion next to Dean and facing him, taking his hand. He waits until the front door clicks closed before speaking. “You look terrible. Have you eaten anything in the last twelve hours? Do you want an icepack for your eye?”

Dean slumps over his knees and rubs at his face, sighing loudly. “A lot’s been going on, Cas. I’ve been a little too busy looking for Sammy to eat.”

“And yet you managed to get punched in the eye. I am going to get you some food and a beer. You are to stay right there and do not move. Do you understand me?” Dean’s head nods up and down, but he doesn’t look up. Cas goes to the kitchen and puts together the best sandwiches he can muster with what little is left in the fridge. When he comes back, Dean is sitting up and his eyes track Cas’ progress across the living room. He looks as though he is going to take Cas’ demand for a talk seriously. Cas pushes the plate with his sandwich into his hands and curls up next to him, not touching. “Tell me what happened.”

Dean meets his gaze for only a second before turning his eyes to the sandwich and setting the plate on the table so he can pick it up and take a bite. It’s a minute of chewing before he finally says anything. “I was on a hunt with Dad. Sam said he didn’t want to come with us, so we left him at the motel. Once we finished the job, Dad stayed back for clean-up and I went to the motel to start packing. When I got there, Sam was gone and so was all his stuff. I tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. I talked to the motel clerk, nothing, went to the bus depot, nothing, went to the train station, nothing. Called Bobby. He hadn’t heard from him either. I tried every other one of our friends, but no one’s heard anything from him. So I started driving around, thinking maybe he’d gotten it in his head to hitch-hike. I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

Cas has been holding back, trying to let Dean finish the story, but there is a glaring hole in the story that he just can’t understand. “Dean, it’s the end of August. Where were you hunting?”

Dean freezes, glances at him out of the corner of his eye, picks his sandwich up and takes another bite. “This is a really good sandwich, Cas. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, I know. This is just kind of a big deal, you know? The last person I told didn’t take it well. You’re gonna think I’m nuts.”

“I already think you’re nuts and love you anyway. Tell me.”

Dean blanches at the admission, staring at Cas like a deer caught unawares. “You…”

“Of course I do, you idiot. Why do you think I’ve put up with you this whole time? Now tell me the damn secret before I make you tell me.” The menacing glare he throws at Dean must work because he stops fidgeting and puts the sandwich down.

“I’m not a mechanic.”

Cas huffs a laugh. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“Well, I’ve worked as a mechanic before, but that’s not my… job, per say.”

“Dean.”

“Fine, okay. I’m what’s called a hunter.”

“I wasn’t aware that that was a profession, but fine. What do you hunt?”

He hesitates again, and Cas has to dig a fingernail into his forearm to get him to answer. “Ow, Jesus, Cas!” He rubs the crescent indent on his arm with a sour look. “Ghosts, okay? And werewolves, witches, all kinds of creepy crawlys. I hunt monsters, okay?”

Castiel sits very still, eyes fixed on Dean. The logical part of his brain tries to claim that this is impossible. Werewolves, vampires, witches, they simply do not exist. But the spiritual part of him knows that they do, because God and angels and demons exist, as does Heaven and Hell. Why would the other supernatural beings not also exist? Thinking back on all the stories Dean has told him, all the times he has talked around a situation, made it clear that he was hiding something from Cas. All the weapons and other strange paraphernalia in his trunk that he thinks Castiel hasn’t seen. “Alright,” he says, more relaxed than he feels.

“Alright? That’s all you’ve got to say? I just told you I hunt werewolves.”

“And ghosts and goblins and all other manner of supernatural beings, yes, I heard you.”

“And that doesn’t… freak you out or anything?”

“Yes, but I have no reason to believe you are lying, and the types of books Bobby Singer keeps would heavily suggest you are telling the truth.”

Dean squints at him, shaking his head. “Dude, every time I think I get what’s going on in that crazy head of yours…”

“Dean, I believe in God and the Bible and angels and demons. It is not a stretch to believe in the rest.”

“Okay, well sorry to burst your bubble, but angels don’t actually exist, and if God does, I’m gonna punch him in the face, but yeah, the other stuff is real.”

Cas is going to ignore Dean’s assertion about the angels. He scoots a fraction closer to Dean, so that his knees butt up against Dean’s thigh. “May I ask what you were hunting when Sam left?”

“A ghost. Dude had a thing for dressing little boys up in those pageant dresses and killing them. And yes, it was as weird as it sounds.”

“And did you… take care of the ghost? How does one take care of a ghost, exactly?” He cocks his head to the side, considering the idea. Perhaps they have corporeal form?

“Salt and burn the remains,” Dean answers as though he’s explaining how to make a ham sandwich.

“I’m sorry, what?” Castiel has no frame of reference for what Dean is telling him. He can’t imagine why salt would be necessary or burning a body. Are they actually corporeal? He hadn’t really thought that, even though he’d considered it.

“First you have to figure out who the ghost was, you know, before they died? Then, you go dig up their remains, cover them in salt, and burn them. Don’t ask me why it works, but they burn up right along with the bones.”

“And why the salt?”

“It repels them. Kind of like ghost kryptonite.”

“And did it work on this ghost?”

“Yeah, it did. Saved one of the kids, too.” Dean picks the sandwich back up and takes a few more bites, eyeing Cas every few chews as though he thinks Cas might freak out on him at any moment. Castiel takes the time to try to work his way through the implications of this news.

“You’re uh, you’re bein’ kinda calm about this.”

“Would you prefer I have a screaming fit or fainting spell?”

“No, it’s just… strange. The last person I told freaked out on me and kicked me out of her apartment.”

Castiel narrows his eyes, disliking the sound of this. “Her apartment?”

“Yeah, sorry, we weren’t together or anything. Didn’t think you’d care.”

Castiel leans in to make Dean look him in the eyes again. “Are we together now?”

Dean’s eyes are practically glowing and so bright green that it takes Castiel’s breath away. “Do you wanna be?”

It is all the confirmation Cas needs to invade the small space left between them and press his lips to Dean’s. The way Dean immediately puts the remains of his sandwich down and curls around Cas, crowding him against the back of the couch and invading his mouth is exhilarating. Castiel moans into his mouth, pulling him closer with fists clenched in his jacket, untucking one leg from underneath him to drape over Dean’s lap as though to keep him there. Eventually, Dean pulls back, eyes warm and happy. “I missed that,” he whispers, hoarse and quiet, almost reverent.

Castiel smooths a hand over his cheek, letting the stubble on Dean’s jaw prickle his skin. “I missed you, too. Does this mean you forgive me for helping Sam?”

Like a switch turning off, the light leaves Dean’s eyes and is overtaken with something dank and dark. “It’s not your fault. Sam didn’t want to be a part of our family’s all. You thought you were doin’ somethin’ good.”

“Sam going to college doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to be a part of your family. Sam loves you very much. He wants to make his own way in life. He was very insistent that he did not want to join ‘the family business’.” Castiel pauses, cocks his head in thought. “I suppose now that I know what you do for a living, it makes a little more sense. He doesn’t want to be a… hunter. He wants to be…” Normal is what Cas wants to say, but he has a feeling that would not go over well. “Something other than what you and your father want.”

Dean huffs and sits up, looking sour and unhappy. “He’s an ungrateful idiot who’s gonna get himself killed.”

“By going to college? Do you really believe that?” Castiel sits up as well, loops his hand through Dean’s arm, leaning into him.

“You haven’t seen the stuff I’ve seen, Cas. He’s gonna be all alone out there. Sammy’s a decent hunter, but he’s gonna get soft. He’s gonna forget to watch himself. And we got enemies. Dad’s been hunting since I was four. He’s killed alotta things, but not everything. Some got away. If they find out Sammy’s not with us, he’s a goner.”

“Sam is smart. He can take care of himself. And there’s no reason you can’t go out to check on him whenever you’re in the area.”

“He doesn’t want my help.”

“I doubt that. He wants your support and love as much as I can tell you want to give it.”

Dean doesn’t answer, fiddles with the sandwich, picks a piece of bread off the last corner and eats it.

“Sam will be fine. I’ve managed to live twenty-one years without being killed by a monster. Sam can last four.”

Dean gives him a look that he can’t read. “I laid a salt line under the carpet in the doorway to your bedroom and another one under the trim around your window, plus I carved a few protection symbols into the inside base of your head and foot board.”

Castiel is taken aback. He doesn’t know what to say for a moment. Eventually, memory takes over. “I’ve never seen any carvings on my bed.”

“They’re hidden by the box spring. Didn’t think you’d like it if you found pentagrams on your bed.”

“When did you do all this?”

“Day you were at work and Avery and Neil were out. Couldn’t exactly tell you what I was doing.”

Castiel is again speechless. He stands up and walks to his bedroom to check the bed frame, astonished to see carvings of pentagrams on each inside corner, crude and obviously done with a pocket knife. When he turns back around, he finds Dean in the doorway, watching him with wary curiosity. “What would have happened if I’d found those when I moved?”

“You would have freaked out? I wasn’t really thinking about that. I wanted to know you were as safe as I could make you.”

“And you’re worried that not doing this will be cause for Sam to be hunted by one of the creatures you or your father has failed to kill?”

Dean shrugs. “Or some other big bad. There’s a lot more out there hunting humans than we can kill.”

“But Sam knows that, unlike me until this conversation. Don’t you think he’ll look for the signs?”

“Not if he’s caught up in being Joe College. He’s gonna get comfortable, forget. He’s gonna slip.”

“I think you need to let it go. Check on him when you can. He will be fine.”

Dean huffs, but doesn’t say anything. When Cas enters his personal space, he lets him. “I want to talk about other things now,” he says, setting his hands on Dean’s hips.

“Like what?”

“You.”

Dean shifts his weight from one foot to the other and crosses his arms over his chest. “What about me?”

“A few months after you ended our relationship, Sam called me to ask for my help with you. He said you were drinking to excess and using drugs.”

“I might have had a rough patch, so?”

“Are you still using?” Dean opens his mouth to answer, but Castiel cuts him off with a finger poked into his chest. “Do not lie to me.”

He sighs, reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “No, I’m okay now. I had help.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow, taken aback. “You sought psychological treatment?” He never in a lifetime would have thought Dean would do something so healthy.

“Fuck no, I met a girl. She sobered me up, then she dumped me when I told her about the life.” His mouth pinches at the edges.

Castiel’s blood boils at the thought of Dean with anyone else, but he can’t fault him. Castiel himself had found someone new as well. And this woman helped him when Castiel couldn’t. He can’t fault that. “That can’t happen again, do you understand? You’re too important to let yourself slide down that slope.”

“I won’t. I’m good now.”

“Good.” They stare at each other for a long time, neither moving away, neither saying anything. Dean’s eyes are intense and so, so green. He missed them. He missed Dean. He leans in at the same time Dean does, and suddenly there’s an explosion of movement. Their mouths mash together, Dean’s hands are on his hips, lifting him up as he rushes towards the bed. They collapse on the coverlet, hands tugging, fighting out of their clothes. Dean’s fingers bite into his skin, clenching him tight as though worried he might slip away. He moans, arching his hips into Dean’s boxer-brief-covered erection at the same time as he fumbles to get rid of the fabric. Dean curses, kicking behind him, struggling out of his boots and jeans before shoving the rest of his clothing off.

It’s blissful when their skin finally touches, no barrier between them. Dean groans into his neck, nipping at him, fingers meandering down his body to wrap around his cock, giving it a few quick tugs. Cas shoves him over onto his back, crawls over him to suck the head of his cock into his mouth, smiling at the way Dean’s head falls back on the pillow like he’s just taken a hit of heroin. “Fuck…” he mutters. Cas shows him no mercy, wasting no time taking him down his throat. He’s out of practice, gags a little, but moves past it. Fingers comb through his hair before gripping onto it, guiding his mouth up and down in awkward rhythm with Dean’s thrusting hips.

His grip tightens, the pitch of his moans changing, and Castiel thinks he might be close to coming. He pulls off, panting, staring Dean down like a lion after prey. Dean returns the look with a matching one. He pulls Cas up, kisses him with vicious intent, biting at his lip, scratching nails into the back of his neck, grabbing onto his ass cheek so hard there will definitely be bruises later. “Wanna fuck you,” Dean mutters against his lips, low and gravelly.

A shiver runs down Cas’ spine. “Fuck yes,” he says, redoubling his efforts to take Dean’s mouth by force. He’s been waiting two years to hear those words, longer really. He rolls with Dean onto his back, legs spread wide for Dean, waiting for the hand that spreads his cheeks, slides spit-slick fingers into him. He whines, ecstatic to have Dean touching him this way again, but wanting more at the same time. He fumbles for the night stand, pulls out the lube, shoves it at Dean’s chest. “Want you,” is all he says, heart racing so hard he might risk an attack if he were any older. Dean takes the lube and uses it to open him up, finger by torturous finger, rubbing mercilessly at his prostate until he’s howling with need.

Suddenly, the fingers are gone, and so is Dean. He blinks his eyes open to find Dean leaning over the end of the bed, fiddling with his jeans, pulling out his wallet. A condom, of course. He’d been too lost on Dean to think about precautions. Dean rips the wrapper open with his teeth in a move much too practiced to be comfortable for Castiel, but thankfully he’s back between Cas’ legs a second later, leaning over him to kiss him into a whimpering mess as he slowly rubs the rubber-covered head of his cock against Cas’ perineum, teasing him, waiting. Cas whines, digs his nails into Dean’s shoulders, begging without saying a word. Dean kisses him, hard and fast, and so thoroughly he temporarily forgets his own name. By the time it comes back to him, he’s being stretched open by something far warmer than any toy and it feels amazing. “Dean,” he keens, clinging to him.

Dean pants against his ear, nosing there, licking at his skin as he bottoms out slow and deliberate. He waits a second, gives Cas time to stretch and adjust to him. Only when Cas lifts his hips up to take him ever further does he start to thrust. It’s fast and frantic, unrelenting but absolutely perfect. Cas is overwhelmed, completely consumed, unable to stop himself from hurtling over the edge into oblivion. Dean joins him a moment later, calling out his name loud enough to risk a noise complaint, but Cas doesn’t care. He has Dean in his arms, in his body, holding onto him like he’s precious, breath coming out in harsh fits.

“That was awesome. Why haven’t we been doing that all along?” Dean asks, wonder clear in his voice.

“Your fault. I’ve wanted it for years.”

Dean huffs, lifts up on his elbow as if to pull out, but Castiel pulls him back down with arms wrapped around his neck, wrapping his legs around his hips for good measure.

“Mmm, stay there for just a little longer. It feels nice.”

“Condom’s not exactly comfortable, babe.”

“Shh, another minute or two.” He whispers, tightening his grip. Dean capitulates, burying his nose in Cas’ hair and snuffling at him. “I love you,” Cas says, quiet and completely blissed out. Dean makes a half-grunting noise and holds him closer.

-

Cas’ fingers in his hair lull Dean into a pleasant sort of stupor. He doesn’t have to think about Sammy being gone or John’s anger here with his head in Cas’ lap. Here he’s safe and warm and nothing matters but Cas. They’re laying naked in bed together, the door shut after Dean went to throw the condom away and grab a wet washcloth to clean Cas up. They’ve been like this for a good hour, and Dean doesn’t want to move.

“I was born James Novak,” Cas murmurs into the quiet of the room. It’s the first thing either of them has said in half an hour.

“Huh?” Dean looks up at him, confused. He’s never mentioned being called James before.

“It’s true. My family called me Jimmy until I was… Mom says I was two. One day I walked into the kitchen and told them my name wasn’t Jimmy, it was Castiel, and I wouldn’t let them call me anything else. They went with it, thinking I would get over it when I got a little older, but I never did. They had my name officially changed when I was fifteen because I had a teacher who refused to call me anything but my legal name.”

“Why Castiel? Why not Peter or Tommy or something simple?”

“I have absolutely no idea. All I know is that I feel down to my very soul that my name is Castiel.”

Dean looks up at him, and can’t help but grin, shaking his head. “You’re so weird.”

“You hunt creatures from hell for a living and you think I’m weird?”

“I think you’re very weird. Probably why I like you so much.” He pulls Cas down to reach his lips, and Cas is smiling into the kiss, fingers burying deeper in his hair. He lifts up on his hands and twists around until he has Cas stretched out underneath him and is nestled between his splayed legs. The second time is slower, more like making love than make-up sex. Dean hasn’t ever felt as connected to another human as he does in Cas’ arms. Afterwards, they sleep.

-

Dean hears humming as he stumbles into the hallway, headed for the bathroom. Good thing I put on boxers, he thinks. When he’s done hitting the head, he peeks in the kitchen and finds Avery in short shorts and a teeny tiny tank top, shaking her hips to the radio as she works at the stove. “Good morning, Ryan. Congrats on Cas finally putting out. We were all rooting for you,” Avery says as she turns grinning, poking at slices of bacon with a spatula. She drops the pan in shock upon seeing him and it clatters to the floor. Thankfully, all the bacon stays in the pan. “Oh my god, Dean?!”

“Hey, bubblegum, careful there.” He hurries to grab the pan, snatching a kitchen towel from the counter to pick it up. “Bacon’s safe, no worries. Good thing, too. I gotta tell you, I’ve killed people for less.” He steps fully into her space with a smirk and snatches a cooked strip from the plate just behind her.

Avery stares at him, stunned. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was hoping I could score some coffee and maybe a couple more strips of that bacon. You don’t mind, do you?” He gives her his most charming smile, but apparently that isn’t going to work because she’s glaring now.

“Seriously, what are you doing here? When I left last night, Ryan was here. And now you’re here, which means Ryan is not and probably won’t be again. I liked Ryan.”

“What, and you don’t like me? Come on now, cupcake, we both know that ain’t true.”

“I do, I do like you, Dean. I just… Am I going to have to deal with a broken-hearted little nerd in a week or are you here to stay?”

Dean’s stomach sinks a little. “No, I uh… I’m not saying I’m moving in or anything, but I’m uh… I’m not going anywhere until Cas tells me to.”

Avery relaxes a little, the frown flattening out. She’s not her usual sex kitten, but she’s definitely not mad at him anymore. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that, though. You skip out on him and break his heart again, I’ll stab you with a steak knife.”

“And I’ll stand still and let you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some coffee and crawl back in bed with Chomsky back there.”

As if on cue, Cas’ voice rasps from down the hall, “Dean?” He sounds as grumpy as every other morning. He appears in the doorway a moment later, clutching the door frame like it’s the only reason he’s still standing.

“Hey hot stuff, get back in bed. I was just getting the third degree and hopefully some coffee. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Cas glares at him, but still shuffles into his personal space and leans up to kiss him. “Don’t call me hot stuff,” he grumbles into Dean’s chest as he cuddles into him.

Dean smooths down his fluffy hair and lets his other hand wander down to squeeze Cas’ butt, making him whine a little. Dean smirks to himself, remembering why that might be a little tender. “But you are hot. So how ‘bout you get that hot little pin-striped ass back to bed, and I’ll be there in a bit. And maybe if you let me sweet-talk Avery some more, I’ll even have some bacon for you.”

“Two minutes,” is all Cas says before leaning up to kiss Dean once more and going back to bed.

“Two minutes is all I need, babe,” Dean assures, watching Cas’ ass shuffle away. He pivots when Cas disappears and smiles at Avery.

“You had to promise him bacon, didn’t you? Now he’s gonna be a crank if he doesn’t get any.”

Dean grins at her as he grabs two coffee mugs and starts filling them. “That was the plan, sweetheart. Hey, Cas hasn’t done something stupid like switch to soymilk since I’ve been gone, has he?”

“Nope, he’s just the same as he’s ever been.”

Dean nods as he pours the coffee and fixes it the way Cas likes. As he’s adding sugar, he glances up at Avery. “Pulling for the other guy, huh? I didn’t know you were the traitor type, bubblegum.”

Avery shoots him a dirty look and points the spatula at him in a threatening way. “You broke his heart, motherfucker. He was finally starting to get better with Ryan. You can fuck off and die if you think I ever want to see him like that again.”

He’d been teasing, but the sharp answer is enough to shut him up. He knows she isn’t wrong. He fucked up. He probably should have stayed away, left Cas to move on. He slumps off with the coffee, avoiding Avery’s glance as he leaves the kitchen. Cas is curled up under the covers, eyes squinted closed as though he’s nursing a hangover. Dean sets the coffee on his side of the bed and slides in, putting an arm around Cas, who immediately rolls over and buries his face in Dean’s neck. “Where’s the bacon?” he mumbles.

Dean combs through his sweaty hair. “I uh, forgot. Sorry.”

Cas pulls away and peers at him, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” Dean tries to pull him back down, but Cas wrestles him onto his back and sits on him, forcing eye contact.

“Tell me.” His eyes are like a force all their own, penetrating into his head, probing, pushing until he can’t help but spill.

“I shouldn’t have come back,” he says, looking down at the sheets to avoid seeing Cas’ reaction.

Cas lifts his chin up in a less-than-gentle move. “Do I look like a fuck-and-run to you?”

“That’s not what I…” He grunts in frustration and sits up, pulling Cas closer without intending to. “You were moving on. You had that guy. I should have just left you alone. ‘M just gonna fuck up and break you heart again.”

“And I’m going to forgive you again. That’s what love is, Dean.” Cas cups his face in his hands and kisses him. “I would rather be fighting with you than spending time with anyone else. Ever.”

“That’s stupid, babe. You deserve way better than me. I’m just gonna fuck your life up. ‘S’what I do,” Dean mutters, unable to comprehend why Cas is being so dumb about this.

“I want you, and unless I’m mistaken by the last twenty-four hours, you want to be with me, too. I don’t care about who deserves what.” He leans down to begin sucking on Dean’s neck, fingers trailing down his chest.

“Cas…”

“Shut up. Too much talking before coffee.” He reaches over Dean and picks up the sandy-colored one.

“You started it,” Dean mutters, focusing on touching Cas’ stomach and sides, grounding himself in the feel of Cas’ skin, trying to push out his thoughts.

“If you don’t stop touching me like that, I’m going to sit on more than just your lap.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. Talk about distractions. “Yeah?”

Cas gives him a heated look over his coffee mug, and Dean forgets all about staying away. He sets the cup down and licks his way into Dean’s mouth, tasting of coffee and morning breath, not the best mixture, but Dean doesn’t exactly care. Cas doesn’t let it get too far before he’s slipping away and out of bed, leaving Dean pouting and confused. “We used your last condom already. Be right back.” He leaves the room with another flash-fire glance over his shoulder, and Dean’s already kicking his boxers off before the door’s shut. There’s a small amount of high-pitched shouting and possibly squeals on the other side of the door, none of which Dean can really make sense of. He spits into his hand and starts stroking his cock, thinking about how hot Cas is gonna look sitting on it.

Cas returns a minute later with a whole plate of toast and bacon and a pack of condoms. He sets the plate next to the coffees and strips off his own pajamas bottoms. “Avery knows we won’t be leaving this room until dinner,” he informs Dean as he climbs back into his lap.

“Really? That why you brought the bacon?” Dean lets go of his dick to wrap his hands around Cas’ hips, pulling him closer.

“I was hungry,” Cas says with a shrug, bracing himself on the headboard as he leans over for a kiss. Dean lets his fingers wander, tracing the curves of Cas. He feels hands manipulating him, feels the familiar constriction of a condom rolling down his shaft. He pulls Cas closer, feeling their dicks rubbing up against each other. Cas whines a little in his mouth, lips frozen for a moment in a little O of pleasure. Dean grins, pulls him even closer, helps Cas line him up and sink down.

He drops his head back as Cas bottoms-out. Fuck, that’s good. “Man, why did I wait so long to do this with you?” he mutters, raising his hips just enough to make Cas whine again.

Cas gives him a sour look and rocks his hips. “Internalized homophobia?”

“Shut it.” Dean pinches his ass in retaliation. Cas isn’t phased, just rocks his hips harder, holding onto Dean’s shoulder for balance as he leans over to snag a strip of bacon. Dean stares at him.

“Really?” he asks, unable to help himself.

Cas blinks at him, narrowing his eyes a little as he chews.

“Are you seriously eating while we’re having sex?”

“Is that wrong? Do you want some?” He grabs another strip and holds it up to Dean’s mouth. Dean takes a bite, still dumbfounded. It’s really good, though, and Cas doesn’t seem to care, so he doesn’t protest anymore as Cas feeds him. Their kisses are bacon-and-coffee-flavored now, slow and lazy to match their movements.

Orgasm creeps at the edges, ebbing and flowing like a calm ocean wave. When Dean finally comes, it takes him by surprise, gripping him tight and pulling a soft shout from his lips. Cas takes longer, rolling his hips over Dean’s softening cock until it slips out, and Dean replaces it with his fingers, probing at Cas’ prostate in time with the jerks of his hand on Cas’ cock. Cas spills over his stomach with a muffled groan, face buried in Dean’s shoulder. He lets Dean clean him up with the half-soiled washcloth, still damp from the night before. Dean takes the condom off and ties it, tossing it in the direction of the trashcan. He misses, but Cas is too busy settling into his chest to notice or care. 

-

“I understand your distaste, but I have to see him. I was in a relationship with him for six months. I owe him at least a face-to-face discussion.”

Dean stands on the sidewalk with a sour expression, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He glares over at the doors to the coffee shop as if he can see Ryan through the windows, even though it’s unlikely that he even remembers what Ryan looks like. “Fine, but I’m gonna be right outside in case he tries to start something.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Ryan is a nice person.”

Dean takes a seat on a bench just outside the doors, stone-faced. Cas sighs and leans over him to peck his lips. “I’ll be out soon. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“’M good,” Dean mutters, expression unchanged.

Cas huffs his annoyance and walks into the building, nervous now that he is faced with having to break up with Ryan. Poor Ryan didn’t deserve this. In a world where Dean Winchester didn’t exist or had never called Cas all those years ago, Ryan could have been his end game. But Dean does exist, and Castiel loves him so much that it physically hurts sometimes. Trying to stop would be like trying to stop a frightened horse from galloping away.

Ryan is perched on the edge of a chair in the corner, leg crossed over his knee and bouncing up and down. His face lights up when he sees Castiel, but only until he registers the expression on Cas’ face. “Hey Castiel, how did the uh… rest of your weekend go?” he asks as Cas sits across from him.

“My weekend went very well, thank you. And yours?” Cas answers, breathing deeply in an attempt to squelch his nerves. It doesn’t work.

“It was uh… kinda lonely. I’m hoping next weekend won’t be…” He looks up at Cas from under his lashes, hands working at the label of his apple juice.

Castiel extends a hand to rest over Ryan’s wrist, stopping his fidgeting, offering a sad smile. “Ryan, I’m sorry, but I can’t see you anymore.”

“Is it that guy from Saturday? Guy shows up after eight months and that’s that?” Ryan’s hopeful look dies on his face, turning bitter and a little angry.

Castiel sighs. “I like you Ryan, very much. But to make the situation as plain as I can possibly make it, Dean could have been gone for eight years or eight decades, and ‘that would be that’. Dean and I have been in an open relationship since we were seventeen. Eight months is very little in the face of five years. I apologize for any pain or upset this may cause you. I enjoyed our time together. You have always been patient with me. If the situation were different, I believe we could have built a strong relationship. But I love Dean. I will choose him every time.”

“Open relationship? The guy can’t even be faithful to you, and you still choose him? I would never want to be with anyone but you. Don’t you deserve that?” He sits forward, eyes dancing as though this argument will be what convinces Castiel to stay.

“I do not want to be rude or argumentative, but the nature of my relationship with Dean is only of concern to Dean and me. I can assure you that Dean is, has been, and will always be faithful to me. That is enough.”

“There’s no way I can convince you?”

“No. I’m sorry.” He pats Ryan’s hand, lifts it up to press a kiss to his knuckles. Ryan gently pulls it away and tucks it under his thigh. “I’d ask if it were possible to remain friends, but I get a sense that it is not.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think that would work out. I’m gonna have a hard enough time getting over you as it is.”

A pain pings at Cas’ heart, drying the saliva in his mouth. “Again, I’m very sorry.” He glances over his shoulder, sees Dean’s spiked hair just visible over the window divider. “I should go. Good luck with your degree.”

Ryan nods, but he isn’t looking at Cas anymore. Cas turns and leaves, unable to find anything more to say.

Dean stands as soon as Cas steps out, eyebrows raised in question.

“I feel like a horrible person, but it’s over,” he answers.

Dean’s entire expression smooths out in a half-smile. “Come on, I’ll buy you an ice cream.”

“I have class in half an hour.”

“We’ll get it to go. Not like your teacher’s gonna see you eating it, is it?” He puts an arm around Cas’ waist and leads him away down the street. Cas goes, glancing back at the coffee shop once, but Ryan doesn’t come out. The guilt lays heavy in his stomach, weighing him down. Dean leads him to an ice cream shop, neither saying anything. As they wait in line, Dean pulls him in by the neck and presses a kiss to his temple, warm and comforting. He puts his arms around Dean’s waist, ignoring the glare of a woman with two children in the corner, soaking in his warmth.

“You sure you dumped the right guy?” Dean asks, a hint of worry in his voice, subtle enough that only Castiel would pick up on it.

“No, I’m exactly where I should be. I just… feel guilty? I think I might have broken his heart.”

Dean pushes Cas’ hair from his forehead, looking down at him with concentrated sincerity. “You’re a hard one to get over,” he says, gruff and heavy with emotion.

Castiel smiles, presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love you,” he says, soft and just as sincere.

“Yeah, me uh… me, too.” Dean looks up at the menu with a twitch of his jaw. Cas smiles to himself, deciding Dean’s minor discomfort is worth it to hear his sentiment returned. They order their ice cream and walk home, parting in the living room so that Cas can log in to his class.

Half an hour later, Cas’ sitting at his computer, listening to a lecture on online databases, empty container of mint oreo ice cream sitting on the desk at his side. Faintly, he can hear Dean in the living room, playing Halo with Neil. Thoughts of Ryan fade to the far corners of his mind. It’s worth the guilt if this can be his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be aware that this is the last chapter to occur prior to canon.


	14. Stanford

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes. And then canon happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I am so sorry this chapter has taken so long. In the time since my last posting I have started a new job and moved. Hopefully, now that I am mostly settled (you don't even want to see what my living room still looks like a month after moving), things will get back into a routine. 
> 
> This chapter brings us into the normal canon of the show. From now on, I will be incorporating as much of canon into the story as possible. Be prepared. 
> 
> This chapter contains dialogue taken directly from Supernatural, Season 1 - Episode 1: “Pilot”  
> Writing Credits: Eric Kripke  
> Transcript Used: http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=1.01_Pilot_(transcript)

May 2004

The theatre is crowded, standing-room only. Castiel was nervous that his family wouldn’t be able to find seats, but standing in line waiting to file into his seat, he can see them sitting in a row near the front, his parents and older sister all grinning at him and waving. His younger siblings mostly look bored. Elizabeth isn’t with them, but Castiel had known she would not be able to attend. Her new internship doesn’t allow for days off, and if she is ever going to become the choir director she wants to be, her internship matters more. He got a congratulatory call earlier that morning from her. Avery is sitting in Elizabeth's spot, beaming along with his parents. Cas waves back at his family, matching their grins with his own. His cap won’t stay on his head and his robes are itchy, but he could not be prouder of this moment. All of his hard work has brought him here to this place. After today, he will always have a profession, always be able to say that he is a librarian. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket as he sits, and he pulls it out to check it and turn it off. There’s a text from Dean. 

DEAN: _**good luck babe. you look hot**_

Castiel look up, confused. Was Dean here? He looks around the room, peering through the crowd of seated family members. In the far corner, standing, dressed in khakis, a dress shirt, and an actual _tie_ is Dean, a little smirk on his lips. He waves with the hand still holding his phone. Castiel stares at him, unable to comprehend what he is seeing. Dean told him that he was hunting a ghost in Montana. What was he doing here? 

Before Castiel can even muster a wave, the Dean’s voice rings out across the auditorium, and Castiel is forced to turn his attention to the stage. The ceremony isn’t as long as the University of Chicago’s had been, but then that had been with the entire university, and this ceremony was for GSLIS graduates only. He had heard rumors that the main graduation ceremony took several hours and had been inhumanly hot to sit through in the stadium bleachers. The keynote speaker had been amazing. He had even caught some of his classmates tearing up at the end of the speech. Castiel’s own brain was mostly focused on Dean and whether he was ready to meet Castiel’s family again or not. 

When he stands and turns to look, Dean is no longer standing at the back of the room. Castiel’s stomach drops. He had wanted to talk to him, thank him for coming, kiss him. Maybe introduce him to Castiel’s parents again, this time as his boyfriend and not his friend from high school. They knew about him by now, knew how deeply Castiel felt for him. Before he can pull his phone out to call him, a pair of arms are wrapped around his middle and his littlest sister is hugging him, quickly followed by his mother, older sister, and father. He spies his brothers standing in the aisle, looking put-upon for having had to sit through the ceremony. Castiel smiles at them, grateful for them nonetheless. He squeezes Claire to him and tries his best to return the hugs, putting Dean in the back of his mind for the moment. 

On the way to the reception, he spots Dean walking towards the Impala, parked at the library parking lot. Castiel breaks away from his family with a promise to be back in a minute and jogs after him. “Dean! Wait!” he calls as he gets within ear range. 

Dean turns, eyeing his family behind him for giving him a smile. When Castiel reaches his side, he wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him close. “You came! I didn’t think you would.” 

“Not like I’m gonna miss you bein’ all Mr. College.”

“I appreciate it. Are you coming to the reception?”

Dean pulls away, eyes stuck on Cas’ family. “Nah, you should be with your family. I uh… I got you a present, though.”

“You did? You didn’t have to do that. Being here is present enough.” 

“Yeah, well, I sorta promised you… Anyway, let me go grab it.” He goes to pull away, but Castiel won’t let him. 

“I’ll come with you.” He waves his family off with a shooing motion towards the library entrance, hoping at least Avery will be able to understand his meaning and go to the reception without him. She cat-calls after him because she has no shame, and thankfully his family has learned to accept her for that, and started directing them towards the library. He loops his arm through Dean’s as they walk, trailing it down to hold his hand as they walk. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here, too. You look really good in those robe-things.” Dean waves a hand at Cas’ graduation robes with the hand holding his keys before he unlocks the passenger side and reaches in for a paper gift bag. It even has a graduation cap and “Congrats, Grad!” scrolled across the front in gold lettering. The sight of it makes Castiel smile.

“Thank you. You look very good in that tie,” he says, pulling Dean in by said tie for a kiss that lingers a little longer than he intended. “I didn’t know you owned a tie.”

Dean blushes. “I uh… I can be classy when I want to be.”

“Indeed. Is that for me?” he asks, pointing to the bag. Dean hands it over, his blush deepening. 

“It’s just a thing I… uh, I told you I’d get you when you got your degree.”

Castiel peers inside, confused. He can’t remember Dean ever telling him he would buy him anything. He laughs when he pulls out the object hidden inside. It’s a deep blue cardigan with rounded wooden buttons and soft brown suede patches sewn onto the elbows. It feels like wool and looks like it will fit him well. He grins and launches himself at Dean, knocking him back against the car to kiss him senseless. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“I had to look forever to find one with patches on the elbows.”

“They’re perfect. I can’t wait to wear it my first day.” Dean ducks his head, cheeks still red. Castiel pecks his lips, grinning. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. Castiel can’t stop smiling. 

“Come to the reception with me. I want to introduce you to my family.”

“I’ve met your family.”

“Not Christine. And it’s been a long time. Come on.” 

Dean looks unsure, but he follows where Cas’ hand pulls him. Castiel’s brothers are all gathered by the food, but his parents and Christine are talking to Avery. As soon as her eyes alight on Dean, she’s waving them over. “Hey, Dean-o, decide to join us?”

“Hello, Dean. How are you?” Amelia asks. Roger says nothing, but there’s a strained twitch to his lip. Castiel starts to think maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

“I’m pretty good. How are you?” 

“We’re doing very well. We are very excited for Castiel.”

“Yeah, me too. Couldn’t miss this.” Avery steps in after that, talking animatedly until everyone seems to relax a fraction. She and Christine take over the conversation, quelling any tension between Castiel’s parents and Dean. Christine seems to like Dean, and Claire remembers him, much to Dean’s surprise. When Castiel decides to ride back to the city with Dean later that day, no one protests. 

Fall 2004

Dean walks up to the counter and gives the grad student behind it his most winning grin. “Hi there,” he peers at her name tag, “Angela. Do you know where Castiel is right now?”

The pretty brunette frowns at him. “I’m sorry, who?”

“Castiel Novak? He’s a few inches shorter than me, dark hair, big blue eyes, gorgeous, dresses like a colorblind professor?”

Her eyes grow huge when he describes Cas as ‘gorgeous’. “Oh, um, he’s on the third floor. Sorry, I didn’t know what his name was. I’ve only been here a few weeks.”

“Excellent, thank you. Is he anywhere in particular on the third floor or just sort of... hanging around?”

“He runs the reference desk, middle of the floor. There’s a sign.”

“Awesome, thanks. I’ll see you around, Angela.” He heads up to the third floor, taking the stairs two at a time. The reference desk is pretty obvious, thankfully, but there’s no one inside it. Dean has to wander the stacks for ten minutes before he finally finds Cas in the French language section, pulling two books off the shelf. He looks sexy as hell, wearing fitted gray trousers and the blue cardigan Dean gave him at graduation with the patches on the elbows. “Excuse me, Mr. Novak, but I have a serious question to ask, and you weren’t at the desk.”

Cas spins around in record time and squints at him. “Dean? Where did you… How did you…”

Dean doesn’t let him get any further in his stuttering disbelief before he’s at Cas’ side and pressing him up against the stacks and kissing him. Cas makes a little muffled noise and shoves Dean back, glaring. “Dean Winchester, this is a library. I will not tolerate canoodling in the stacks.” 

“Did you just say ‘canoodling’? Wow, Cas.” Dean pulls just a little at the sleeve of the cardigan, urging him closer again. He comes, a glint of amusement in his glare. 

“I’m at work, you know.”

“I know. You make one hot-as-hell librarian, you know that?” Dean circles his hands around Cas’ waist, pulling their hips flush. 

“Yes, thank you. What are you doing here, though? I thought you were in Louisiana, killing a swamp monster.”

“I was. It’s dead. I didn’t have anything else lined up, so I thought I’d come see you, check out the new job, make sure they’re treating you right.” 

“They are. I’m enjoying myself immensely. In fact, I’m currently doing research for one of the graduate students on the history of the subjunctive in French literature. It’s fascinating.” Castiel slips out of Dean’s arms with a peck to his cheek. Dean follows him to the reference desk and parks his elbows on the counter. 

“You look good. That sweater makes me want to fuck you, you know that, right?”

“Language, Mr. Winchester. This is a respectable library.” Cas cuts him a look as he sits at a computer desk. A student hesitates to walk up to the desk. Cas smiles at her and stands. “Hello, how may I help you?”

“I uh… I’m looking for Guy de Maupassant in the original French.”

“Absolutely, follow me.” Cas walks back out from behind the desk to lead her away. Dean smirks at the girl, eyeing her as he steals one of Cas’ pens and chews on the cap. She glances back at him nervously as she follows Cas. He’s back a minute later sans girl. “You have been here five minutes and already you have flirted with one of my patrons. I should kick you out and tell Phil to never let you in again,” he says, placing his hands on the counter and squinting at him. 

“Who's Phil? Should I be jealous?”

“The security guard. Dean, I need to work.”

“I know. Mind if I hang out here for a little while and watch you? I won’t get in the way, promise.”

“After my shift is over you’re taking me to dinner at the diner on Fourth.”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

“No cursing in the library, and no mentioning the fact that we have sex.”

“Done.”

Cas squints at him for a long time. He only looks away when another student walks up to the desk, eyeing Dean warily. Dean eyes the guy up and down and walks away from the counter to make himself comfortable at a table not far away. Castiel does research and helps stray students find the information they’re looking for. Dean eventually gets bored and finds a newspaper downstairs, starts looking for a case. By the time Cas is finished for the day, Dean’s found a suspicious death on the North Side he’ll check out in the morning. 

“What are you smiling about?” Cas asks as he meets him at the front desk downstairs after clocking out. 

“You. Do you know how sexy you are?” Dean asks, leaning in to press a kiss to Cas’ mouth. Cas pushes at his shoulder, but doesn’t pull away from the kiss regardless of the staff and patrons watching. 

“Dinner?”

“Dinner, then I’m taking you home.” 

Cas smirks, leaning into him. “You don’t want to catch a movie after? The Bourne Supremacy’s out.”

“You’re hilarious. Come on.” Dean loops an arm around his shoulders and leads him out of the building. “I might have a case.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll check it out in the morning.”

“Well, I don’t mean to wish danger on others, but I hope you find something. I’d like to see you for more than just a day or two.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t mind staying here myself. You’re not gonna make me sleep on the floor again, are you?”

Cas scoffs, pinching Dean’s side beneath his jacket. “I’ve never actually done that, Dean.”

“Is that a yes?”

Cas’ look is answer enough. Dean ruffles his hair and drags him towards the street to find his car. 

/

Texts and voicemails from from Dean Winchester to John Winchester:

Saturday, October 15, 2005: 

DEAN: **starting to think this is zombies**

DEAN: **not zombies**

DEAN: **i hate voodoo priests. blood everywhere**

Monday, October 17, 2005, 1:45PM: _Hey Dad, just checking in. Took care of the crazy priest. I think I’m gonna stick around for a couple days, take in the scenery, then maybe pop up to Chicago for a couple days. How’s the Jericho thing going?_

  


Wednesday, October 19, 2005, 3:32PM: _Hey Dad, still working the Jericho thing? You need help? I’m heading up to Chicago now, but I can head your way instead if you need me. Call me back._

Thursday, October 20, 2005, 10:18AM: _I guess you don’t need my help then? I’m gonna assume you just forgot to charge your phone again. Call me back when you can._

Sunday, October 23, 2005, 2:37PM: _Hey, just checking in again. Bobby said there’s a weird death in Wyoming, some dude had his eyes gouged out? I don’t know, but I’m gonna go check it out. Unless you need me? Still haven’t heard back from you. It’s been a week. You okay? Call me back._

Tuesday, October 25, 2005, 12:19PM: _Dad, come on. I haven’t heard from you in over a week. If I don’t hear form you by next Saturday, I’m heading to Jericho. Call me back._

/

Dean is just pulling out of the parking lot when the phone rings. He snatches it up quick as lightning, hoping it’s John. It isn’t. “Hey babe,” he says, holding back a sigh.

“ _Have you heard back from your father yet?_ ” Cas asks. Dean can almost hear the furrowed eyebrows in his voice.

“Not yet. The dude in Wyoming was a bust. Guy fell on a rake, gouged his own eye out. Sucks, but there wasn’t any EMF or anything else weird. I’m heading to California now.”

“ _Have you called Sam yet?_ ”

The question throws Dean off. Cas has been quietly insisting that Dean get back in contact with his brother for well over a year now, but the timing is a little off for another complaint about it. “Why would I do that?”

“ _You don’t think your brother might like to know that his father is missing?_ ”

“I told you, Cas, Sammy doesn’t care about us. He left.”

“ _Dean, if you tell me that one more time, I am going to get in my car and drive to wherever you are so that I can hit you hard enough to knock sense into you. Your brother loves both you and your father. He went to college, like the majority of Americans his age. He did not abandon you or disown you. You did that to him, and for incredibly stupid reasons._ ”

“I’m not fuckin’ calling him.”

“ _Don’t you think he at least deserves the right to say whether or not he cares that your father is missing? You’re taking his choice from him._ ”

God damn Cas and his reasonable arguments. “Fine, I’ll fucking tell him.”

“ _Thank you._ ” There’s a pause, then, “ _You know, you’re going to California. You could stop at Stanford and tell him in person. I would be surprised if he didn’t want to help you find John._ ”

Dean doubts it, but yeah, maybe. At least he might be able to steal a few beers from Sammy’s fridge, check out that girl Dad had told him Sammy was living with the last time he did a drive-by. “Maybe,” is what he tells Cas, which earns him a huffy noise. 

“ _Don’t be an ass, Dean. He’s your brother._ ” When Dean doesn’t say anything, he makes another noise of displeasure. “ _Fine, do what you want. Just be careful please. I love you._ ”

“I’m always careful.” This earns him a snort and a dial tone. He shrugs to himself and tosses the phone on the passenger seat. 

/

Dean wakes up from a nap in the back seat to a voicemail on his phone. His heart skips a beat, then another when he hears his dad’s voice. It’s broken and patchy with what sounds like it might be EVP, but it’s his dad. “Dean... something big is starting to happen... I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.” It cuts off after that, but it’s enough to send Dean’s worry into full-blown panic mode. He grabs his shitty laptop and plugs the phone in. It takes a little bit of fiddling, but he gets the other voice on the line, a woman, saying she can never go home again. Hearing it sends Dean’s stomach to his shoes. For the first time, he thinks his dad might really be in trouble. 

He closes the laptop and jumps in the front seat, heading towards California at double speed. 

/

When Dean rolls up to campus, he already knows where to find Sam, but that doesn’t mean he’s just going to go knock on his front door. He knows that will just earn him a slammed door in his face. Besides, he’s curious. Sammy’s been on his own for four years now. Dean wants to see what that’s done to the kid. If he’s been as careful as Cas seems to think he would be. So he parks off-campus and finds the house he’s staying at on foot. He dresses like a frat kid, wears a ball cap and sunglasses. The house is like every other house on the block, older, not in the best repair, but a step up from everywhere they’ve ever stayed. He knows Sammy lives with his girl on the second floor. He gets a glimpse of one of the dudes who lives downstairs, normal enough looking. It’s another half an hour before he sees Sammy.

When he catches his first glance of Sam, he’s surprised at how grown-up he looks. He’s even taller now, definitely a good couple inches over Dean. His hair is a little long and shaggy. Dad probably hates it. Dean thinks it makes him look like one of those floppy-eared dogs. The girl with him is smoking hot, blonde, pretty, and wearing the naughtiest of naughty nurse outfits. At least Sammy isn’t wearing a fucking Halloween costume, but Dean’s surprised he’s out at all tonight. He knows the kind of shit that happens during Halloween. He follows them at a discrete distance, close enough to catch scraps of their conversation, but still far enough away to not draw Sam’s attention. He’s pleased to see that Sam is paying attention, glancing around every ten steps or so, keeping track of his surroundings the way he was taught. The girl is bubbly, happy, and Sammy is clearly in love with her. Listening to her talk, Dean’s half in love with her himself. She’s like a ball of sunshine dressed up like a sexpot. 

“Good job, Sammy,” he mutters to himself, smiling. Despite his annoyance with Sam for leaving, he’s glad that Sam’s managed to find himself a good life here. 

They go to a bar and meet up with their friends, all normal-looking college kids. Dean finds a stool a little ways away from their table and order a beer to watch. They’re normal. They get drunk and dance and talk too loud. Sammy has a whole group of friends. Most of the kids at the bar know him by name. Dean gets reports from a few of the girls that he’s a nice guy, courteous. Smart. 

Dean follows them home, waits until the lights are off and the house is settled. Waits until they’ve had time to have sex and fall asleep before he makes his move. It’s stupid, he knows, but he has to see. He climbs a drain pipe and jimmies a window open with his pocket knife. He’s inside a second later. He waits, listening. He can hear the creak of floorboards from deeper in the house, can tell it’s Sammy from the heavy sound they make. No way that little slip of a thing is that heavy. Dean gives him credit, he’s pretty quiet once he’s close. 

They fight doesn’t last long, thirty seconds at most before he has Sammy on his back. “Woah, easy tiger.”

“Dean?!” Sam says, panting. “You scared the crap out of me.”

Dean chuckles. “That’s ‘cause you’re outta practice.” Sam grabs him with his legs and flips him in a move that makes Dean proud. “Or not.”

Sam taps his shoulder and pulls him up. “Get off me,” Dean mutters, standing and brushing himself off. 

“Dean, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I was looking for a beer.”

Sam clenches his jaw and gives Dean a look. “What are you doing here?”

Dean shrugs, rolling his eyes. Four years and the kid still can’t take a joke. “Okay, alright. We gotta talk.”

“Uh, the phone?”

“If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?” 

Before Sam can answer—if he even had an answer that wasn’t complete bullshit—the light turns on and they both turn to the pretty blonde girl standing in the doorway in skimpy sleep shorts and a tight, low-cut t-shirt. Damn, Sammy picked a hot one. 

“Sam?” she asks, blinking sleep away.

“Jess. Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica,” Sam introduces them. Dean gives her a favorable once-over. 

“Wait, your brother, Dean?” she asks, clearly confused but a smiling all the same. She actually looks happy to see him, which is weird. At least she knows Dean exists.

“I love the Smurfs,” he says, indicating the cartoon on her t-shirt. “You know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league.” He can’t help himself. She’s that cute.

“Just let me put something on,” she says, giving him a look and turning to go back towards what Dean assumes is the bedroom.

“No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously.” He gives her another once-over that earns him an eye roll. “Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you,” he adds, smiling.

“No.” Sam gives Dean the stubborn look that used to mean he was going to do or say something stupid that Dad wouldn’t like and goes over to Jess and puts an arm around her. “No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.”

Dean wants to snort, but he holds it in. “Okay.” He looks them both dead on. “Uh. Dad hasn't been home in a few days.”

Sam smirks, brushing him off. “So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later.”

Dean gives him a look. “Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days.”

Sam’s face turns to stone. “Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside.”

They argue all the way down to the car. Dean is growing annoyed with the conversation, ready to get on the road, ready for Sammy to just shut up and get in the car. “So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?” he asks finally.

“No. Not normal. Safe.”

Dean snorts. “Safe? Really? And that's why you ran away.”

Sam looks as frustrated as Dean feels. “I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.

“Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now, if he's not dead already. I can feel it.”

Sam doesn’t say anything.

“I can't do this alone.”

“Yes you can.”

Dean scrubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I don't want to.”

Sam stays quiet and Dean can see the cranks working behind his eyes before he finally agrees. “What was he hunting?”

Dean explains, shows him the missing fliers, even plays him the voicemail. Sam stands there, thinking like there’s even anything to think about. Dean finally cracks. “I’ve left you alone for four years, let you do your college thing without bothering you. Haven’t asked you for a thing.”

Sam looks away, jaw clenching. When he looks back, he’s nodding. “All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him.”

Dean starts closing everything up, getting ready to close up shop and hit the road, but Sammy isn’t done. “But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.”

He turns to go back in the house, but Dean calls to him. “What's first thing Monday?”

Sam stops, turns around. “I have this...I have an interview.”

“What, a job interview? Skip it.” 

“It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate.”

Dean freezes. “Law school?” he asks, trying for mocking. In the back of his head is a monster of doubt and worry. If Sammy goes to law school, he’s done. Gone for good. 

“So we got a deal or not?” Sam asks. Dean shuts the trunk with a heavy slam, lets that be answer enough. 

He texts Cas while he waits for Sammy. 

DEAN: **picking up sammy and heading to jericho. call when i have news.**

CAS: **Good luck. Be safe. I love you.**

/

The hunt is a bust as far as finding their dad, but getting rid of the ghosts feels good. It’s almost like their a team again. It’s enough to let him forget what his dad’s absence means, what his leaving the journal behind means. Convincing Sammy to keep hunting doesn’t work, but maybe if he sticks around until after the interview, he can work on him a little more. 

He hangs out by the car once Sam gets inside, deciding whether or not it’s too early to call Cas. It’s 7:00AM in Chicago. Cas is usually awake and on his way to work by then. He’ll be a grumpy bastard, but Dean kind of likes talking to him when he’s grumpy from sleep. He’s just deciding to dial when he smells it. Sulfur. On Sam’s front steps. He bolts for the stairs, about to knock on the door when he hears Sam’s shout. He doesn’t bother to pick the lock, just busts right through. The bedroom is a wall of fire when he gets there. He can see a silhouette on the ceiling, and it gives him flashbacks of a night twenty-two years ago. Screams. Dad putting baby Sammy in his arms and telling him to run and don’t look back. 

He does just that. Grabs Sam by the arms and uses all his strength to pull him out of the room, out of the house, as far away from the fire as he can. Sam is screaming, reaching back, calling something out. Dean can barely hear it over the buzzing in his ears. He pushes Sam out onto the sidewalk and towards the Impala, coughing and trying to wipe the smoke out of his eyes. 

Sam’s still screaming, and now Dean can hear him. He’s shouting for Jess, shouting so loud that the neighbors are starting to look out their windows. Hopefully someone will call 911. Dean grabs onto Sam’s shoulders, shakes him, tries to get him to focus. It’s no use. By the time the firetrucks arrive, the house is a husk, and Sam is slumped on the grass, staring off into the middle distance. Dean tries to answer as many of the questions the officers have as he can—They were on a road trip together. They’d just gotten back a few minutes before the fire. They’d gone out to the mountains near Jericho to spend a few days hiking together. Dean had only just met Jess, but she seemed like a sweet girl. Doubtful she’d have any enemies. Sam didn’t either.—but eventually he has to defer to Sam. 

It’s a long process, but they don’t take Sam into custody or blame either of them for the fire. They say they’ll have a ruling in a few days, but Dean knows they won’t be around for that. He can see the look in Sam’s eyes, the same look he’s seen in his father’s eyes for the last twenty-two years. He doesn’t need any more convincing now.


	15. Dead in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam pick Cas up on their way to Lake Manitoc. Cas is less than pleased to hear about the events at Stanford, but the case gets in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry this chapter took so long to post. I thought the chapters would be easier to write once canon got involved, but it's actually harder. I can't tell you how many times I have re-watched Dead in the Water to write this chapter. I am going to take a short writing break for the holidays, and then I am going to be making this story priority number 1 until it is finished. No idea how long that will take, but I am determined to have it finished before the next DCBB.
> 
> This chapter contains dialogue taken directly from Supernatural, Season 1 - Episode 3: “Dean in the Water”  
> Writing Credits: Eric Kripke (creator), Sera Gamble (writer), & Raelle Tucker (writer)  
> Transcript Used: http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=1.03_Dead_in_the_Water_(transcript)
> 
> Thank you to my beta, tackygoldring, for helping me with this chapter. You were beyond patient with me, and I will be forever grateful for that.

Dean’s phone starts ringing, and he snatches it up from Sam’s hand before his brother can answer it. “Hello?”

“Are you still going to Wisconsin?” Cas asks.

“Driving through Iowa right now. Why?”

“It’s Memorial Day weekend, and the campus is already shut down.”

Dean grins. He’d forgotten about the holiday weekend. Easy to do when you don’t work. “Memorial Day weekend, huh? We’ll be there in…” He checks the mile marker. “Three hours?”

“I’ll still be at the library.”

“Awesome. Angela working?”

Cas sighs. “Yes. No flirting.”

“’Course, babe, no flirting. We’ll see you soon.”

“Wait, we? Who’s with you?”

Dean glances at Sam, who’s looking at him like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Sam’s with me. I’ll uh… I’ll explain when we see you.”

“Dean, you didn’t do what I think you did, did you? Sam’s supposed to be at school. What happened?”

“I told you, we’ll talk about it when we get there. Get back to work. I’m sure there’s some college girl waiting around the Latin section, just dying to ask you how to translate fuck into five languages.”

“Dean–”

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yes, fine. Three hours.” Dean turns the phone off and tosses it to Sam, who is still looking at him like he’s an alien.

“What?”

“Was that… Cas?” Sam asks in the same voice he might use to ask if they were hunting a unicorn.

“Yeah, so?”

“Are we… picking him up? You’re still seeing him?”

“Yeah. You got a problem with that?”

“No, I guess I’m just surprised, is all. You’ve never exactly been the relationship type.”

“Yeah well, it’s Cas.”

Sam’s side of the car is silent for a while. Dean glances over to check on him, and finds him staring at the dashboard like it’ll give up the secrets to the universe if only he stares long enough. It’s another minute before he speaks again. “Wait, we’re picking Cas up? I thought we were on a hunt.”

“We are. Cas won’t mind.”

“Does Cas know?”

Dean bites his lip and prepares for whatever shit storm Sam’s about to throw at him. “Yeah.”

“You told him the secret?! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half, I did nothing but lie to Jessica, and you just tell Cas like it’s nothing? What the hell, man?”

Dean keeps his eyes on the road. “Looks like.”

Sam is not dropping this no matter how much Dean wants him to. “What the hell, Dean? That’s Dad’s number one rule. Don’t tell civilians.”

Dean sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose. “Look, I didn’t have a whole lot of choice, okay? I went to him looking for you when you ran off to Stanford, and he gave me that… look of his, and I just… I couldn’t do it anymore. You think lying for a year and a half is bad? I lied to Cas for five years. Five. Even after he’d met Bobby, traveled with us, heard me talking to Dad about hunts a bunch of times. And I still lied to him. Even when he was interrogating me. So I broke finally. Sue me.”

Sam is quiet for a while, too quiet. Dean glances over, and Sam’s staring at the dash, but he doesn’t look like he’s really seeing it. “So he’s known for four years now? How did he react?”

Dean smiles a little at the memory. “He was cool with it. Like, really cool. He didn’t even blink, just went with it.”

“Really? He didn’t freak out or anything?”

“No, not at all. He said it made sense. The one time his freaky religious family did me a favor, I guess.” Dean shrugs and glances at Sam. He’s just sitting there dumbfounded, staring out the window like he can’t figure out how sunlight works. Dean lets him figure it out on his own.

“Does Dad know he knows?” he asks eventually.

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? We gotta find him first, then maybe I’ll think about telling him about Cas.”

Whether or not Sam agrees, he shuts up after that. Dean turns the music back up, happy knowing he’s about to see his favorite person. The rest he can worry about later.

-

"So, you haven't told Cas anything about what's been going on?" Sam asks as they walk towards Regenstein.

"He gets all... I don't know, concerned. He can't help right now, and I didn't want him to do something stupid like quit his job and try and come with us."

"You realize he's going to be pissed at you, right?"

"Oh, I know, Sammy, but he's gonna get over it, and then we're gonna have awesome make-up sex. And believe me, Sammy, whatever make-up sex you've had doesn't even compare to Cas."

Sam makes a bitch face. "Thanks for that visual."

Dean pulls the front door in his face and leaves him on the side-walk. Sam scrambles after him, staring around like he’s never been inside a library before. "Don’t ask then, dude. Hey, Phil, what’s up?” Dean high-fives Phil, and turns to Sam. “Phil, this is my little brother, Sammy. Sammy, this is Phil.”

Phil looks Sammy up and down and raises an eyebrow. “Not much little about him, is there?”

Dean laughs, slapping Phil on the shoulder. “You got that right. So, where’s the Nerd King?”

“Languages, as usual. Careful, though. He’s got a grad assistant sniffing around him like a dog on a bone.”

Dean glances over at Sam. “Does he? Guess I’ll be taking care of that while I’m here. Come on, Sam, let’s go find Captain Trenchcoat. Try not to drool on any of the books.” He sees Sam rolls his eyes out of the corner of his eye as he walks away from the security desk and leads Sam up the two flights of stairs to Languages. He finds Angela in Cas’ place at the reference desk, her dark hair cut into a short pixie. She’s pretty enough that it doesn’t make her look like a dude, which is good. “Hello there, beautiful. I like the new haircut.”

“Dean, hi, thank you.” She blushes and rubs the shaved hairs on the back of her neck. “Castiel said you would be coming to pick him up. Who’s this?” She eyes Sam up and down like he’s a piece of Prime steak.

“This is Sammy, my little brother. Sammy, this is Angela. She works under Cas.” He pauses, plays what he just said back in his head. He raises an eyebrow at her as he leans an elbow on the counter, a flirtatious smirk creeping up. “But not under him under him, right, Angela?”

“Right, of course not.” Her blush deepens as she glances up at Sam from under her lashes. Dean grins to himself. Teasing her is just too easy.

Sam smiles at her. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

“So, where’s Cas, then? Do I need to rescue him from under a pile of German books again?” Dean asks.

Angela blinks at him before answering. “He’s helping a grad student, I think.”

Dean straightens. “Not the grad student who has the hots for him.”

“Um… well… he asks him an awful lot of reference questions…”

Dean tries to remind himself that Cas is his no matter what else is going on, but he still breaks the pencil he’d been playing with. Angela smiles hesitantly at him and throws the broken pieces away. “If it helps, Castiel never talks to him about anything but research. And he was very happy when he got off the phone with you earlier.”

“Thanks, Ang.” He looks down the nearest stack, hoping to see a glimpse of Cas, but there’s nothing to look at but rows of books and a stray step stool. He turns back, smirking. “So, any cute undergrad snap you up yet?” he asks, leaning closer to her. Her cheeks turn fire engine red. She only manages to stammer for almost a minute before they’re interrupted by a talking pile of books attached to khaki pants and a very familiar argyle sweater.

“I know I told you not to flirt with my assistant, Dean.”

“Well, you weren’t here yet. Who was I supposed to flirt with, Melville?” The nervous pimple-faced page stares at Dean with terror-filled eyes before scurrying off with a cart full of books to re-shelve.

“You were supposed to wait patiently like an intelligent human being,” Cas informs him, setting the tall stack of books he’d been carrying on the counter. “Hello, Sam. It’s possibly good to see you. You’ve gotten… astonishingly tall.”

“Hey, Cas,” Sam says, smiling awkwardly.

“Why is it only possibly good to see Sam? You love Sam,” Dean asks, frowning. The look Cas gives him makes him immediately regret opening his mouth.

“I am always pleased to see Sam, except that he is currently supposed to be finishing his fall finals for his final year at Stanford. Instead, he is at my library. With you. What did you do?”

Dean sighs and glances at Angela with a significant look. Cas looks at her as well and smiles warmly at her. “Angela, could you please excuse us for a moment? We are going to be in my office. Tell anyone looking for me that I am in a meeting, please.” Angela nods, looking curiously between him and Dean. “And if you hear yelling, know that it is just me murdering my boyfriend for incessant stupidity. There will be no need to call Phil.” Cas picks up the huge stack of books, carefully balancing them as he navigates around the desk, and leads Dean and Sam to a small office at the back. As soon as the door closes, Dean knows he’s in deep shit.

Cas drops all his books on the desk, spilling half of them in a spray across the surface. His lips are white with how hard he’s clenching them together, and the look he turns on Dean could whither a rose garden. “Explain. Now.”

Dean starts talking fast, explaining what happened in the calmest way he can without upsetting Sam, who’s standing awkwardly behind Dean and looking like he’d like to be anywhere but in this room.  Dean is abruptly stopped by a hand in front of his face.

"Just a moment. Are you telling me that your brother lost the most important person in his life aside from you, and you thought it was a good idea to lie to me about it? For an Entire. Month?"

Dean doesn’t even have a good answer. He hangs his head and sighs. Castiel ignores him, turns to Sam. “I am very sorry for your loss, Sam. I can’t imagine what you might be going through right now. If there is anything you need, please tell me.” He rounds the desk and gives Sam a hug. Dean takes note of the misty look of Sam’s eyes as he hugs back. When Cas pulls back, he rounds on Dean again.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to get all worried. It’s not like you could do anything about it.”

“That isn’t the point. We promised that we would be honest with each other not matter what, and you broke that promise. How do I know you’re ever telling me the truth?”

“Didn’t lie to you. I just didn’t tell you. Not the same thing.”

Castiel glares at him, but doesn’t say anything. Eventually, Sam clears his throat. “I’m uh… just gonna go find some coffee. I’ll uh… be back in a bit.” He disappears, leaving the two of them alone. Castiel starts straightening up the books, his mouth set in a hard line.

“Babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad. There’s, you know, a lot going on. With Dad missing and everything that happened with Sam’s girl, I didn’t need you worrying on top of all of it.”

“I understand that you are having a difficult time right now, but do you know what could have helped that?”

Dean has no idea, but he has a feeling he’s about to get yelled at again.

“Talking about it. With me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t, okay?”

Cas gives him a look. “I need to get back to the desk, finish up for the day. I have another half an hour before I can leave.”

“I guess I’ll go find Sammy then, grab something to drink. You want anything?”

“No, thank you.” He walks out of the office without another word.

-

Dean sorts through his box of ids until he finds the right ones and slaps one against Sam’s chest. “We’re going to go and talk to the sheriff,” he tells Cas.

“I will find us lodging. Call me when you’re done.”

“’Kay.” Dean leans in for a kiss, but Cas blithely slips from his grasp with the car keys and slides into the driver’s seat with a wave to Sam.

Sam is laughing as he pulls away. “Wow, you’re really in it.”

“Shuddup.” Dean smacks his brother over the head just before they reach the doors of the station. The interview goes about as well as can be expected when they haven’t done their research on the town beforehand, at least until a gorgeous woman walks into the office.

“Sorry, am I interrupting? I can come back later.”

The sheriff introduces her as his daughter as they stand, and Dean goes immediately to shake her hand. Like he’s going to resist flirting with a beautiful woman, Cas mad at him or not. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Dean.”

“Andrea Barr, hi.”

“They’re from the wildlife service. About the lake,” the sheriff explains, and the hesitant way he says it, combined with her reaction puts Dean on alert. The sullen little boy who peeks out from behind Andrea distracts him, though.

“Oh, hi there, what’s your name?” he asks. The little boy shies away and Andrea follows him.

“His name is Lucas,” says the sheriff.

“Is he okay?” Sam asks, but Dean already knows the answer. He recognizes the look. As the sheriff shows them out and offers his help, Dean takes a chance to talk more to the daughter. Sam’s gonna think he’s flirting, but he doesn’t care.

“Hey, now that you mention it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?”

“Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner and it’s two blocks up,” Andrea supplies. She has a pretty smile.

Dean returns her smile with one of his own, the one that usually gets him laid by sweet girls like this one. “Would you mind showing us?”

She laughs. “You want me to walk you two blocks?”

“If it’s not any trouble.”

She looks at him like he’s lost his mind, but shrugs. “I’m headed that way anyway.” She says goodbye to Lucas and they’re out on the sidewalk a moment later.

“So, cute kid,” Dean tries.

“Thanks.”

“Kids are the best,” he tries again, but even he knows he sounds like an idiot.

They cross the street and stop on the sidewalk. Andrea points across another street. “There it is. Like I said, two blocks.”

Dean can already see the Impala parked out front of the motel she points to across the street. “Thanks,” Sam says.

Andrea turns and squints up at Dean. “It must be hard for someone with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.” Dean is struck dumb as she walks away.

“Kids are the best? You don’t even like kids. Are you trying to get Cas to kill you?” Sam says as they watch her walk away.

“I love kids,” Dean says, offended.

“Name two kids you even know.”

Dean raises his eyebrows and holds up a hand, starts counting. “Phillip, Thomas, Jacob, and Claire.”

Sam scoffs at him. “And who are they?”

“Cas’ family.”

“Right,” Sam mutters, giving him a skeptical look before rolling his eyes.

Dean smacks Sam in the arm and walks away towards the motel. “Like you know any…” he mutters under his breath.

-

Castiel follows silently behind as they make their way over to a bench where a pretty brunette is sitting alone. He doesn’t recognize her, but he does see the boy from the newspaper article a few yards away coloring on a bench. As Sam greets her, Castiel watches Dean’s eyes travel to the boy and stay there. Dean goes off to ‘say hi’, and Cas settles on the bench next to Sam. The woman rolls her eyes. “Tell your friend this whole Jerry McGuire thing’s not gonna work on me,” she says to Sam.

“I don’t think that’s what this is about,” Sam says, eyes following Dean. They all watch for a moment as Dean crouches next to the boy and talks to him as he starts playing with two little plastic army men. When he starts coloring, the woman speaks again.

“Who’s your friend?”

Sam looks over at Castiel, who offers her a smile. “This is Castiel.”

“You from the Wildlife Service, too?”

“No, I’m a librarian. I’m just visiting for the long weekend.”

The woman looks confused, so Sam clarifies for her. “Cas is Dean’s boyfriend.”

Her eyebrows nearly reach her hairline as Cas nods in confirmation. “Oh… I, I’m sorry. I was thinking… I don’t know what I was thinking,” she says, laughing awkwardly and glancing down at her skirt.

“Whatever you were thinking was probably valid,” Castiel feels the need to tell her. “Dean cannot resist the urge to flirt with anything that stands still long enough.”

Andrea looks back over to where Dean is now coloring with the boy. “Do either of you know why he wants to talk to my son?”

Sam looks like he is about to answer, but Castiel speaks first. “Despite his appearances, Dean is extremely good with children and cares a great deal about their well-being.” Sam gives him a skeptical look. Castiel shrugs. “You’ve never seen him with Claire.”

“Claire?” Andrea asks.

“My littlest sister. Dean did very well to bring her out of her shell and make her feel comfortable when she had no experience talking to strangers outside her church community.” Castiel looks over to Dean, who is just standing up. He stands to meet him and the other two stand as well.

“I hope he has the same effect on my son,” Andrea says as they watch Dean leave his picture with Lucas and walk towards them. “Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident.”

“Yeah, we heard. I’m sorry,” Dean says.

Andrea nods with a forced smile.

“What are the doctors saying?” Sam asks.

“That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress.”

“That can't be easy. For either of you.”

“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw...”

Sam and Dean exchange a look. Castiel can recognize the shared history between them, the knowledge of what they’d had to witness as children. Dean’s only told him parts of it, and he guesses not even the most difficult ones.

“Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with,” Dean assures her. Behind her, Castiel can see the boy getting up, a piece of paper in his hand.

“You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” She is cut off by her son entering their circle. Castiel smiles at him, trying to be encouraging.

“Hey sweetie,” Andrea says.

Lucas hands Dean the picture without saying anything. Castiel can see the image of a house. “Thanks. Thanks, Lucas,” Dean says. Lucas walks back to his bench. None of them know what to say. Eventually, Castiel grabs hold of Dean’s jacket sleeve. They make their exit.

“Poor kid,” Dean mutters. He wraps an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, showing him the picture. Castiel allows it, still unhappy with Dean, but willing to overlook it for the time being.

-

Castiel is reading a lore book on water demons, looking for something to help with the case, when Dean sits on the bed next to him. “You don’t have to work the case, Cas. Sam and I got it,” he says, starting to pull the book out of Castiel’s lap. Cas holds it firm.

“Three pairs of eyes are better than two, and I’m here. I might as well help.”

“Let’s give it a rest for a little while. Sammy’s out. Haven’t seen each other since Halloween…” He presses a kiss to Castiel’s neck, leaning into him. Castiel shrugs him off.

“No thank you,” he says, keeping his eyes on the book.

Dean backs off, but his annoyance is a palpable thing. “You’re really not letting this go, are you?”

“You lied to me and kept me out of an important part of your life. It is going to take longer than a day for me to get over it.”

Dean stands, goes over to the table and chairs in the corner, and flops down with an audible WOOSH of the ancient upholstery. “Then why’d you come with us? What’s the point of being here if you’re just gonna be mad at me the whole time.”

Castiel throws a glare at him. “Because even angry with you, I would rather spend time with you than not.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Would you rather I get on a bus and go back to Chicago, then? Since it’s now obvious that I’m not going to fuck you?” He’s starting to think maybe that wouldn’t be a terrible idea himself. He knows Dean doesn’t see him that way, but anger is a powerful motivator.

Dean looks stricken at his words. “Now hold on, when have I ever treated you like you were just sex to me?”

Castiel reins in his sour look for the moment, aware that his last comment was probably out of line. “You haven’t.”

Dean gets up again and walks over to him. He pulls the book off Castiel’s lap and drops to his knees in front of him, resting his hands where the book had just been. “Look, I get it. I fucked up. I should have told you about Sam. I was just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me from what? I’ve been hunting with you before, Dean.”

“And when have I ever been totally okay with that?”

Castiel makes a face. “Never, but you know I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, but this… this is different. Ever since Dad left, I’ve had this feeling, like something big is coming.”

“Big?”

“Yeah, like… I don’t know. Bigger than we’re used to.”

Castiel reaches out to run his fingers through Dean’s short hair. “All the more reason for me to be with you, making sure you’re safe.”

“No, Cas. You need to stay out of this. You’re not a hunter. You’ve got a life, a real one, with friends and a career. That’s where you belong, not hunting monsters on a never-ending road trip with me and Sam.”

Castiel considers this, stroking a thumb down Dean’s cheek. He’s right, of course. Castiel’s instinct may be to stay with Dean, to want to help, but there isn’t much he can actually do. “Let me help with the research, then. I have a Master’s degree in research, after all.”

“If you want, sure.”

“Thank you.” He leans down to press his mouth to Dean’s, a fissure of warmth sliding through him as Dean leans up on his knees to return the kiss. He pulls away after a minute, turning serious again. “You have to promise me that you will keep me up-to-date with what is happening, though.”

“I promise,” Dean murmurs, reaching for another kiss.

Cas holds him back, forcing eye contact again. “Even if things get dangerous. Even if you don’t want me to get involved. You have to tell me when things happen. I don’t want to find out another tragedy happened a month after it’s over. You call me, and you tell me. Even if you think I’m going to drop everything to be with you. Even if you think it might get me into danger. Do you understand me?”

Dean hesitates, but a clench of Cas’ finger in his hair is enough to have him nodding his head with a frown, eyes darting away. “Yeah, Cas, I’ll tell you.”

“Good. Now shall we get back to what you were planning to start earlier? Sam’s still gone.” He gives Dean a wicked grin that earns him an arm full of hunter and his back pressed flat against the bed. He has his hand down Dean’s jeans and his hand wrapped around Dean’s shaft when they’re interrupted by the jangle of a lock and the door opening to the smell of pizza.

“Hope pepperoni’s alri—” Sam greets them, only to stop abruptly upon sight of them tangled up together. “So, we’re not fighting anymore? I’m not sleeping in the car,” he says, putting the pizza box down.

Dean pulls away from Cas with a grumbling sigh and adjusts his pants. Castiel sits up, straightening his own clothes and subtly wiping his hand on the bedspread. “That won’t be necessary, Sam. Thank you for bringing dinner.” He gets up and heads towards the bathroom to get tissues for napkins and wash his hands. When he returns, Sam is sitting at the table across from Dean, who is still on the bed, a slice of pizza already heading for his mouth. Cas drops a few tissues next to Dean and goes to occupy the other chair at the table, handing a few more to Sam as he sits.

“You find anything at the library?” Dean asks his brother through a mouth full of pizza.

Sam wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “No, most of their mythology books were in the Kid’s section, mostly fiction. You find anything here?”

“I was unable to find any promising leads in my readings.” Cas tells him, gingerly picking up a slice. The cheese is a gooey mess, but the crust is a little rubbery. He resists wrinkling his nose.

“Great. We’ve got nothing to go on, then,” Dean grumbles, practically inhaling another piece in the messiest of fashions. Watching him makes Cas question his own judgement in finding Dean as attractive as he does.

“Perhaps go check the lake out tomorrow again? There might be something you’ve missed.”

Dean and Sam both nod, but they neither looks encouraged by the prospect.

-

Castiel wakes sometime around dawn to Sam getting dressed as quietly as possible. Castiel thinks of maybe letting Sam know that he is awake, but Dean’s arm is secure around his waist, and he is too comfortable there to want to disturb him. He waits for Sam to slip out of the room before he turns in Dean’s arms to look at him, settled and almost peaceful in sleep. Cas lifts a hand to trace along the curve of Dean’s nose, across his cheekbone. He should go back to sleep, but the prospect of Dean, unguarded and open to Castiel’s full attention, is a pull he cannot resist. As angry as he was earlier for having been lied to, he is less surprised by the turn of events than he lets on. Dean has a history of half-truths and intentional non-disclosures. Castiel knows how protective Dean is, knows that he should feel flattered that Dean would care enough about his well-being to want to shield him from the darkness that runs Dean’s life, but it still hurts. It makes him wonder what other secrets Dean has hidden from him, what other half-truths lurk in the back of his mind, what else he has withheld from Castiel.

Dean shifts in his sleep, pulls Cas closer, and nuzzles into his neck. “Go back to sleep,” he mumbles, muffled by Castiel’s skin.

“Sam left,” Cas tells him, combing fingers through the gelled mess of his hair, stroking his thumb over Dean’s temple.

“For breakfast?”

“No idea. He didn’t know I was awake.”

“So, we got time maybe?” Dean’s hands flutter down his spine and over his backside, and he leans over to press his mouth to Cas’.

Cas smiles against his mouth, meets his tongue when it prods at his lips. Dean pulls their hips together so that their morning erections rub together, making them both moan. They rock together, slow, lazy. Dean’s fingers trail up the seam of Cas’ pajamas bottoms, trace the elastic at his waist before sliding inside to grab hold of his bare cheek. Slowly, the bottoms shift lower and lower on Cas’ hips, until finally his cock is free, and Dean wraps his hand around it, rough and dry, but somehow perfect. Cas arches into his hand, kissing him harder, clinging unconsciously to his arm.

Dean nudges Cas onto his back, pulls the pants down lower. He hovers over Cas on his knees, leaning over for a final wet kiss before he begins a journey of opened buttons, teasing tongue flicks, and open-mouthed kisses down Cas’ bare chest as he pushes Cas’ pajamas top off his shoulders. Cas has to lift the blankets to watch Dean’s final progress to his pelvis, hands pushing his pajamas down further.

“What if Sam comes back?” Cas asks just as Dean licks at the head of his cock.

“He’ll deal. He’s a big boy,” Dean says, his focus on Cas’ shaft. The way he looks at it remind Cas of the way he looks at pie. Cas groans, dropping his head back against the pillow. He squirms under Dean until Dean gets the hint and sucks the head into his mouth, flashing Cas a wicked look as he does.

“Oh fuck…” Cas mumbles, taking a hold of Dean’s hair to encourage him. Dean makes a tiny noise of pleasure and sinks deeper onto Cas’ cock, working his tongue against the shaft in a way that sends sparks through Cas.

Dean takes his time, working Cas over until he is nearly blind with pleasure. He feels frazzled and a little out of control by the time Dean introduces a finger into him, flicking it against Cas’ prostate just soft enough to make him crazy without quite pushing him over the edge. “Dean…” Cas whines, tugging at Dean’s hair.

Dean chuckles around his shaft, pulls off it to lick at the head. “You ready to come, baby?”

“Please…” Cas manages, looking down at him through hooded eyes.

“How could I say no to that?” he crooks his finger inside Cas, pressing hard against his prostate at the same time that he swallows down Cas’ entire shaft in one go. Cas loses it, shooting cum down Dean’s throat, screaming incoherent pleas to God.

When he comes back to reality, Dean is wiping excess cum off his cheek, licking the remainder off his fingers, a wicked smile on his lips. He rests back on his knees, the bed covers pooled around his waist, leaving Castiel’s bare skin open to the air. Cas pulls his pants up, vaguely aware that Sam could come back at any moment. Dean leans over to kiss him, planting a hand next to his head. He tastes of cum and morning breath, but it doesn’t stop Cas from kissing him back.  He reaches down to return the favor only to find a softening cock and boxers wet with cum. “Did you… while I was…?” he manages to ask between kisses.

Dean groans against his mouth. “You’re so fucking hot when you come; how could I not?”

Cas strokes his flagging erection through his wet boxers. “Should we shower before Sam gets back?”

“Can we fuck in the shower?”

Cas snorts. Of course he would already be looking for a round two. “We’ll have to be fast. I don’t want poor Sam to have to walk in to you calling my name.”

Dean raises his eyebrows as he slides out of bed and tugs Cas with him towards the bathroom. “Who says it’s gonna be me calling your name?”

Cas just narrows a look at him, and it’s enough.

-

They manage another round and thorough showers before Sammy gets back, and even though Cas had turned him into a fucking mess in the shower, Dean can say he’s more satisfied than he’s been in a long time. He should have known it wouldn’t last.

“So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie,” Sam informs them as he bursts in with a coffee carrier and a bag of donuts.

Dean’s pulling on his socks on the bed when he bursts in. “What do you mean?” he asks.

Sam sits next to him, handing him a coffee. “I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.”

Dean was not expecting that one. “He drowned?”

“Yep. In the sink.” He gives Dean a significant look.

“What the hell?”

“How does that even happen?” Cas asks, peeking his head out from the bathroom where he’d been getting dressed.

“No idea, but it happened.” Sam looks just as confused about the situation as Dean feels.

“So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.”

“Yeah, but what?” Sam asks.

“I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake?” Cas asks, sitting on Dean’s other side.

“Yeah.” Dean nods.

Sam shifts, looking eager now that they’ve got an actual lead. “Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time.”

“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere. This is gonna happen again, soon.” Dean stands and moves over to a chair to pull his boots on.

“And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton.”

“Yeah, it took both his kids.”

“And I've been asking around. Lucas's dad, Chris? Bill Carlton's godson.”

“Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.” He turns to Cas, who is watching them without saying a word. “You wanna come?”

“I think I’ll just stay here if you don’t mind. I can research water wraiths, see if it could be what you’re looking for.”

“We’ll be back then.” Dean grabs his keys off the table, and Sam joins him at the door. He lingers in the door as Sam passes him on the way to the car and leans into the door frame. “Don’t eat all the donuts while I’m gone,” he tells Cas, who smiles and shakes his head.

“Don’t get hurt.”

Dean knocks on the door frame in farewell and leaves, meeting Sam at the Impala. They’ve got work to do.

-

Later that evening when Sam and Dean get back, they both looked harried and unhappy. “Get packed, we’re heading out,” Dean tells him as he starts shoving things into his bag.

Cas stands, confused. “Did you kill the monster? I don’t understand.”

“The sheriff kindly asked us to leave, so we’re leaving,” Sam informs him, starting to pack as well.

Cas moves to his suitcase, still confused, but willing to do as instructed. “Why did he do that?”

“He figured out we aren’t Wildlife agents. It was either get arrested for impersonation or leave town,” Dean explains, going to the bathroom to pack up his toiletries.

“That seems extreme. Maybe you should tell him what you think is going on? I heard in town that there was another death?” He’d walked to a diner earlier for lunch and talked to a few of the locals, but their information had been spotty at best.

“Bill Carlton, yeah. We were there.”

Cas turns to Sam, alarmed at this news. “The sheriff doesn’t think you were involved, does he? What happened?”

“We tried to talked to Bill this morning, but he wouldn’t talk, but Dean figured out that the picture Lucas drew for him was of Bill’s house. So we went to talk to Andrea and Lucas. It took a lot of talking to get Andrea to let Dean talk to Lucas, but when he did, Lucas gave him another picture.”

Dean comes out of the bathroom with three toiletry bags, tosses one to Sam, hands Castiel’s to him, and stuffs his own in his duffel. “We found the house in the picture, talked to the woman who lives there. Turns out she had a son who disappeared thirty-five years ago. Guess who he was friends with.”

Cas squints, pausing over folding his pajamas bottoms, confused again. “How could I possibly know who a child who disappeared thirty-five years ago was friends with?”

“Bill Carlton,” Sam explains.

Castiel begins to understand where they might be going with this. “Do you think he had something to do with his disappearance?”

“Definitely. Why else would the ghost be going after his kids?” Dean says.

“So we go back to Bill’s house to talk to him again, but Bill’s going onto the lake on his boat when we get there. We tried to get him to turn around, come back to shore, but he ignored us. And then this… thing flung the boat upside down. Bill got caught underneath. Not sure if his neck snapped or he drowned or something in between, but he didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Cas reaches out for Dean and slides his hand into Dean’s. “I’m sorry you had to see it happen.”

Dean shrugs, but he squeezes Cas’ hand all the same. “Not the first time we’ve seen someone die.”

Cas nods. “But the sheriff doesn’t think you killed him, right?”

“Thankfully, someone else saw Bill go out on his boat before it happened, so we’re in the clear,” Sam says.

“But the sheriff still wants us gone, so we’re gonna be gone,” Dean adds, shouldering his bag. “You ready?”

Cas looks around the room to check that he has everything, still a little unsettled. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Let’s go, then,” Sam says, shouldering his own bag and picking up the room key.

“You go drop these off; we’ll meet you at the car,” Dean says, handing over his own room key and taking Sam’s bag from him.

They pack up while Sam walks towards the office and get in the car. Dean is quiet, unusually quiet, as they sit there. Cas reaches across the seat and pushes his fingers through the spikes of Dean’s hair. “Are you really okay?” he asks, cautious not to upset him.

“Yeah,” Dean says with a half-smile, but Cas can tell the smile is forced. He slides over the seats to kiss Dean’s cheek and wrap an arm around his neck.

“I love you,” he says, because something about the moment makes it feel necessary.

Dean looks up at him and leans over to kiss him, soft and chaste. They pull away when Sam climbs into the back seat, and Cas moves back to his place.

As they pull up to a T-crossing, Dean looks off into the distance, apparently completely oblivious to the green light. Sam grows impatient in the back seat, leans over the seats. “Green. The light’s green,” he prompts.

Dean gets back into gear, but turns the wrong way, right back towards town. “Uh, interstate’s the other way,” Sam says. Castiel is also mildly confused, but he can see the tension in Dean’s shoulders, see the determination on his face. He thinks he might know where this is going.

“I know,” Dean says.

“Dean, this job, I think it’s over,” Sam argues.

“I’m not so sure.”

“If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.”

“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?”

“But why would you think that?”

“Because Lucas was really scared.” And there it is, the tension in his shoulders. Castiel understands, much better than Sam.

“That’s what this is about?”

“I just don’t want to leave this town until I know the kid’s okay.”

“Who are you, and what have done with my brother?”

Dean glances at Sam, then turns back to the road. “Shut up,” he mutters.

Cas reaches over to rest a hand on his knee. “I think you’re right. Given everything you’ve told me about this case, and everything we know about that little boy, I don’t think its over either.”

“And if we get arrested by Andrea’s dad for checking up again?” Sam asks.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean says.

When they get to Andrea’s house, Castiel decides to stay in the car up until the moment the little boy opens the front door with terror on his face. Dean and Sam rush into the house, Lucas leading them out of sight. Castiel gets out of the car and follows after as swiftly as possible. Lucas leads them upstairs to a closed door. There’s water everywhere, cascading down the stairs, pooling at the bottom landing, all of it flooding out from under the crack in the door. Castiel pulls the boy out of harm’s way, making sure he is shielded from whatever is happening despite his struggles against Cas’ hold.

Sam tries to force the door, but doesn’t manage it. Dean shoves him out of the way and gives it a hard kick, knocking the lock open and swinging the door open wide. Cas has Lucas far enough out of the way to not be able to see what’s happening, but Sam and Dean rush in and the sounds of struggle and sloshing water is loud in the otherwise silent house. Cas can feel water filling his shoes, soaking into the cuffs of his trousers, but he barely notices in the face of keeping Lucas away from the action.

Finally, the splashing and sounds of struggle end with a loud thump and someone--Castiel assumes Andrea--gasping for breath. Dean comes out, eyes focused on Lucas. “She’s okay, we got her. Are you okay?” he asks, kneeling to reach Lucas’ level and taking hold of his shoulders. Lucas settles when he hears that his mother is safe and nods to Dean. He pulls out of Castiel’s arms and pushes past Dean to get into the bathroom. Dean tries to catch him, but Lucas slides away like a wet eel. Castiel and Dean follow. They stand in the doorway, watching Sam hold a coughing, gasping naked Andrea, while Lucas kneels next to her and holds her hand.

“Are you alright?” Sam asks, looking as shook up as Castiel feels. Dean drapes a towel over her, helps Sam help her sit up. She rubs at her face, nods. Her eyes fall to the bathtub and widen with horror. It is dark with some sort of sludge—probably lake water—and looks fairly ominous. Sam and Dean both help her to stand and usher everyone out of the room.

“Let’s get as far away from the water source, how about?” Dean says as he herds Lucas out of the bathroom. Castiel closes the door behind them all. While Sam tries to comfort Andrea, Lucas clings to her side. Cas can recognize the dead, sightless look of her eyes, the fragile way she touches her son’s back. Andrea is in shock. Thankfully, Sam sees it, too.

“How about we get you dried off and in bed? Cas, you wanna go find Lucas some pajamas? Dean, you wanna start mopping up?” Sam gives them both uncertain, half-scared looks and lets Andrea guide him to her bedroom.

Castiel has no idea know what the delicate process of getting a naked woman who is in shock dressed and into bed might entail, but somehow when he returns with race car pajamas, Sam has managed to do just that. Castiel helps Lucas get changed while Sam goes to help Dean with the clean-up. He sends up a prayer that the hardwood floors aren’t completely ruined as he helps Lucas climb into bed. He leaves them there, Lucas tucked into his mother’s side, watching her while she stares blankly at the wall.

-

The next morning, Dean and Cas are woken up from what little sleep they managed on the couch by Lucas trying to make breakfast in the kitchen. Cas uncurls from Dean’s arms and climbs off the couch, straightening his clothes before realizing that they are wrinkled beyond anything he can do. Dean disappears into the kitchen to help Lucas; Cas goes to find Sam and hopefully check on Andrea. He finds Sam slumped against the wall outside her room, sleeping sitting up. He leans down and shakes Sam’s shoulder to wake him.

“Wha…?” Sam peers up at him, wipes the drool from his mouth.

“It’s morning. Go get some coffee.”

Just then Andrea opens the bedroom door, her pajamas rumpled. She has a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “Where’s Lucas?” she asks. She looks a little more cognizant today, but tired and fragile.

“Downstairs. Dean’s helping him make breakfast, I think.”

“He probably wanted to bring me breakfast in bed.” She smiles, sad, but fond. “He does that when I’ve had a bad day.”

“You doing okay?” Sam asks, standing and straightening himself out.

“I think so. Thank you for saving me.” She puts a hand on Sam’s arm, forces a smile. Sam pats her shoulder, but doesn’t say anything.

“Should we go down?” Cas asks, standing off to the side with his arms wrapped around his waist, feeling as though he is interrupting a private moment.

“Mmm,” Andrea hums, padding towards the stairs on bare feet.

“Afterwards, we should probably talk,” Sam says, gentle but firm. It sounds like a suggestion, but Castiel knows it isn’t.

Less than an hour later, Sam and Andrea are in the living room talking quietly. Cas thinks he can hear her crying, but he tries not to listen in, focusing on drawing with Lucas at the now-cleared kitchen table. Dean is off searching through Andrea’s father’s office. Cas tries not to find it odd that her father never came home last night. He draws a picture of his family for Lucas instead, all six of his siblings lined up neatly with a stick-figure him wedged in between Christine and Elizabeth, his parents off to the side, holding stick-figure hands.

Lucas gets up from the table suddenly, goes over to the sliding glass door, and looks out the window. Castiel watches him for a second before getting distracted by Dean walking in from the office with something. He sets it in front Andrea and points at something on the page. “Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?”

Andrea looks up, brows furrowing. “What?” Her eyes follow Dean’s finger, and she says with hesitation. “No. I mean, except that’s my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.”

Dean looks significantly at Sam. “Chris Barr’s drowning. The connection wasn’t to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.”

“Bill and the sheriff—they were both involved with Peter,” Sam says, looking eager now that they seem to have a lead on what’s happening.

Andrea has obviously not picked up what they’re talking about. “What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?” she asks.

It is then that Castiel sees Lucas reach for the door handle, just as Dean sees the same. “Lucas?” he asks. Castiel gets up to follow him, and the others all follow as well. He leads them to a clearing a few dozen yards from the house and stops on a patch of mossy, soft-looking earth. Behind Castiel, Dean says, “Cas, why don’t you take Andrea and Lucas in the house and stay there, okay?”

Castiel wants to protest, but he knows better than to question Dean’s instructions in the middle of a hunt. He puts a hand on Luca’s shoulder to direct him towards his mother, and the three of them go back to the house. Lucas goes back to drawing a picture of a red bicycle while Cas gets Andrea another cup of coffee.

“What do they think my dad had to do with Chris’ accident?” she asks when he sits down across from her.

“I don’t think they think he’s responsible for the death itself,” he says, hesitant to explain further.

“What do you mean? Of course he wasn’t responsible. It was an accident.”

“You incident last night was no accident. They think the same thing that went after you also went after your husband.”

“And what was that?”

Castiel is about to answer when the sound of a car pulling into the driveway distracts them both. They go to the window and see the sheriff’s car parked. The sheriff is walking across the yard to where Sam and Dean are digging in the spot Lucas showed them. It is only when the sheriff pulls his gun that either of them move. Castiel is running, not paying attention to anything but getting to Dean’s side and getting rid of the gun. He doesn’t get within ten yards of Sheriff Devins before the gun is pointed at him. He freezes, holds his hands up.

“Stay where you are,” the sheriff snaps. Castiel does as requested, but it’s enough of a distraction to allow Sam and Dean to tackle the man. They wrestle the gun away, Dean holding his hands tight behind his back as he tries to buck them both off.  “Get off me,” he shouts.

“Dad!” Andrea shouts, running up behind Castiel.

“You got one seriously pissed-off spirit, Sheriff,” Dean growls. He looks less than pleased.

“It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them. And it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does,” Sam says, standing and picking the gun up. He pulls the magazine out and upends it.

Devins watches the bullets as they drop onto the grass. “How do you know that?” he asks in a quieter, less righteous voice.

“Because that’s exactly what it did to Bill Carlton.”

“Listen to yourselves, both of you. You sound insane,” Devins struggles against Dean and gets an elbow to the ribs for his trouble.

“I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake.”

“Dad, is any of this true?”

He sticks his chin up in defiance. “Don’t listen to them. They’re liars, and they’re dangerous.”

“Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me,” she insists. When he does, she tells him, “Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone.”

The sheriff looks at his daughter and visibly deflates. Horror swallows Andrea’s desperate expression. “Oh my god.”

“Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.” Dean exchanges a glance with Sam. Andrea takes a step back, shaking her head. Castiel can see tears brimming at the edges of her eyes. Devins keeps going, trying to reach out for his daughter. “Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational.”

“All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now,” Dean says, getting up. Devins follows him, brushing himself off. A cry from Andrea stops them all in their tracks.

“Lucas!” she cries, taking off for the lake. Cas spots the boy reaching towards the water, kneeling on the end of the dock. A pale, bluish hand reaches out of the water and pulls him down. Dean and Sam are off like a shot after Andrea in the next instant.

Dean gets there first and pulls his boots and his jacket off in quick succession. Andrea moves to follow, but he holds a hand up to block her. “Stay on the dock!”

Sam scrambles to get his boots off as well to follow Dean into the lake. “We’ll get him! Just stay where you are!” Sam instructs just before jumping in. Castiel reaches her side and takes her hand, his terror matching hers as they watch the ghastly visage of a little boy leer at them just at the waterline before he disappears into the water after Dean and Sam.

Andrea clutches Cas’ hand, screaming for her son. There is an endless back-and-forth between Sam and Dean, checking with the other before diving back under. Every time one of them disappears under the water, Castiel’s heart clenches a little tighter.

He doesn’t even notice the sheriff walking into the water until Andrea yells for him. Devins ignores his daughter. “Peter,” he says. “Lucas—he's, he's just a little boy. Please, it's not his fault, it's mine. Please take me,” he pleads. Castiel feels hopeless watching the water take him, the little hands pulling him down.

Sam and Dean emerge again, see Jake going under. Both cry out, but it’s too late. They both dive under again. An agonizing minute passes.

Two.

Sam breaks the surface, shaking water from his face and looking around for a sign of either Dean or Lucas. Another agonizing minute passes. Castiel can feel the dark, frantic part of his soul screaming to jump in himself, drag Dean up from the deep, to protect his love.

Dean bursts up out of the water, Lucas limp in his arms, both of them gasping for air as soon as they surface. Sam swims to help and struggles to help Dean tow the boy over to the shore. There is no sign of Devins. Castiel and Andrea rush to meet them. Andrea takes her child into her arms and helps him get his breath back. Castiel helps Dean and Sam out of the water. Dean sprawls out on the shore, coughing. Cas is so relieved to see Dean alive and unharmed that he can barely contain his need to be close, to curl up with Dean and hold him close. He presses his forehead to Dean’s, cups Dean’s face in his hands. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, you understand me?”

“What, you miss me?” Dean asks, smirking around his panting breaths.

“Assbutt,” Cas mumbles before leaning over to kiss him. Dean clings to his shirt, pulling him into Dean’s lap and returning the kiss with an urgency that mirrors Cas’ own. They pull away slowly, reluctantly, Dean smoothing Cas’ hair off his face and getting it wet and messy with pond scum. “I love you,” Cas says, needing Dean to hear it, having come so close to his demise.

Dean pets his hair, looks deep into his soul, reaches up and kisses his forehead.


	16. My Time of Dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean has an out-of-body experience, John Winchester is less of a dick than expected, and Cas finally gets to watch Dean work on a car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my ever-wonderful and supportive beta, Tacky. You are lovely and deserve all the cookies in the world.
> 
> As usual, because we are working within canon now, if the dialogue seems familiar, it probably wasn't written by me. This chapter contains dialogue taken directly from Supernatural, Season 2 - Episode 1: “My Time of Dying” Writing Credit: Eric Kripke  
> Transcript Used: http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=2.01_In_My_Time_of_Dying_(transcript)

**July 2006**

Dean wanders into his room after a long walk around the hospital, looking for someone, anyone who can see him. He finds his father sitting at his bedside, staring at his lifeless—and just thinking about the possibility of being dead sends him into a mental tailspin—body, doing nothing. As Dean watches John watch him, Sam’s words keep floating back into his head. Your son is dying, and you’re worried about the Colt? Sam’s right. Dean is probably dying there. Hell, maybe he already has, and he’s a ghost now, and this is his eternity. Why isn’t his father doing anything to stop this?

“Come on, Dad. You've gotta help me. I gotta get better, I gotta get back in there,” he says under his breath. “I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything? Aren't you even going to say anything?” He steps closer, frustrated at the lack of action and because he knows his father can’t hear a word he’s saying. He circles the bed, proximity the key to getting the reaction he wants—or so instinct tells him. “I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I’ve given everything I've ever had. And you're just gonna to sit there and you're going to watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?” He doesn’t realize he’s raised his voice, but he doesn’t want to stop shouting now that he’s started.

The soft sound of footfalls are what interrupts him. He turns, and the sight that meets him knocks him back a step. Cas is there, eyes wet with tears, his hair messier than usual. He’s pale, slumped, with huge purple bags under his eyes. It breaks Dean’s heart to see him like this. Cas’ eyes are focused on Dean, trailing over the tubes and wires attached to him. He takes a few steps into the room, but stops when John straightens and turns to look at him. John scowls, but the look slowly fades as he takes Cas in. “Castiel?” he says, quiet, not quite sure.

Cas’ attention flickers to John, shoulders slumping that much more. “Mr. Winchester,” he says.

“Sam said he called you.”

“I drove down as soon as I could get leave from work. How is he?” He takes a few steps closer. Dean shadows him, itching to reach out and touch. He can feel tension like an energy field underneath Cas’ skin, practically vibrating with a need to go over and check on Dean. He stays where he is.

John looks Cas over again and nods at him, a glint of... respect? Dean is surprised to recognize the expression. "I'll let you have some time." He gets up and limps out, Cas watching him as he passes with an unreadable expression.

As soon as John is gone, Cas goes to the bed, picking up Dean's hand and perching on the bed next to Dean's hip. "Dean," he says, lifting the hand up to kiss the back of it. Dean can feel the softest ghost of his lips, but nothing more. "How could you let this happen? You're supposed to keep yourself safe. That was our deal."

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I hate putting you through this.” Dean tries to reassure him, putting a hand on Cas’ lower back and kissing his neck. His hand slides right through Cas’ skin. Right, of course, he remembers. Cas can’t hear him. He clenches his fist in frustration.

Cas starts tracing the cuts on Dean’s forehead with his fingertips, too light for Dean to feel. He watches for a long time as Cas smooths down every stray hair on his head, every wrinkle in the bedsheet, methodically straightening Dean as if the act alone will make Dean’s eyes suddenly open. It breaks Dean’s heart all over again. He has to walk away when the tears start falling. There’s nothing he can do, and he might even be making Cas feel worse by standing there.

He wanders back to his dad’s room just in time for Sammy to walk in, stiff-shouldered and glaring at the wall. The fight that follows is expected, but the vase flying across the room is a surprise. The pain that follows, a shock like being electrocuted again goes through him, and the room fades around him.

A second later he’s in his own room, hospital staff working on him. Most disturbing is the thing floating over his body, reaching out to grab him. He can feel the touch of the thing, and it’s isn’t good. He tears at the thing, forcing it off, screaming at it to let him go. It must work, because the thing shoots past him into the hallway and away.

-

The girl is a lot less freaked out than he would have expected, but he takes that as a win. The last thing he needs right now is to be dealing with a hysterical civilian. She follows him for a while as he looks for the reaper, asking questions. “So, how do you know all this about… bilocation, is that what you called it?”

Dean nods, but he doesn’t quite know how to answer. Should he tell her about hunting? At this point, what could it hurt? “I uh… my family, we hunt monsters, like ghosts and werewolves and stuff. I’ve dealt with people stuck like this before.”

“Stuck?”

“Well, not stuck, but… near death, I guess?”

Tessa is quiet for a long moment. Dean keeps an eye on the hallway, checking for another sign of the creature that had been hovering over him when his body was crashing. “How long have you been hunting monsters?”

He looks back at her, a little taken aback. She’s not going to freak out? Call him a liar? Ask for proof. “My whole life,” he tells her. The way she looks at him, there’s something behind her eyes, something he can’t quite put his finger on. It’s like the way Cas scrutinizes him sometimes when he’s trying to decide if Dean’s lying to him, but also not quite the same.

“That has to be a hard thing to give up, if you’ve been doing it all your life.”

“I’m not giving it up.”

“But what if you have to? You said you think we’re close to death. What if your body doesn’t get better?”

Dean shakes his head. “That ain’t gonna happen. Sam will find a way to get me healed up, even if the doctors can’t. We’ve done it before.” Dean checks down the hallway, something moving quick catching his eyes. It’s just a little kid, though, being chased down by a woman.

“Sam is your brother?”

“Yeah.” Dean turns back to her. She doesn’t have that weird look in her eyes anymore. “What about you? You got any siblings?”

She nods and tells him about a little brother of her own, but there’s still something off. When Sam passes them in the hall with a brown paper bag and his shoulders tensed, Dean follows him.

-

Talking to Sammy over a stupid Ouija board while Cas sat at the foot of his bed, stoned-faced, was weird, but having the other comatose chick walk in as Sam is putting the board away is just embarrassing. Dean gets up and brushes his pants off, trying to make himself look as dignified as he can. When he looks up at Tessa, she’s still standing in the doorway, staring. But she isn’t staring at Dean. She’s staring at Cas. She walks over to him while Dean watches, and then the weirdest thing happens. As she gets closer to Cas, it’s almost as though Cas can sense her. He perks up, turns towards her, brows furrowed. Dean takes a step towards them both, protective of Cas without having any reason to be. Tessa’s no more harmful to Cas than Avery would be.

“Who is this?” Tessa asks without taking her eyes from Cas. Cas shifts around on the bed until he’s stretched out next to Dean, ear to his chest, still looking in Tessa’s direction.

“That’s my boyfriend Cas. Why?”

“He’s… different.” She reaches a hand out towards Cas, but Dean intercepts her, sliding quickly between her and the bed.

“I know, you’ve never seen anyone that gorgeous before, right?” Dean says, trying to lighten the look on her face.

She looks up at him in an instant, eyes wide. “You have no idea, do you?”

Dean rubs the back of his head. “How gorgeous he is? I’m aware. It’s completely unfair.”

She looks back at Cas once more before turning away. “No wonder,” he hears her mutter as she walks out of the room. Dean is torn between following her to find out what she’s talking about and staying with Cas. What the hell was that about? She hadn’t even said what she wanted.

“You okay?” Sam asks Cas, who is still frowning at the door from his position on Dean’s chest.

“Did you feel that?” Cas asks.

“Feel what? Did you feel Dean?”

“No—yes, but that’s not what I mean. Something else was here just a minute ago. It felt… heavy.”

“Like a reaper? Dean said one’s after him.”

“Maybe…”

“I’m gonna talk to Dad, see if he knows any way we can get Dean back.” Cas nods, but doesn’t move to get up and follow as Sam leaves. Dean circles the bed and leans over his back, pressing a kiss to his ear and stroking his fingers through Cas’ hair, eyes focused on the door, turning over what just happened. He doesn’t register for a long time that Cas is leaning into his hand.

“However hard you have to fight, come back to me please. I couldn’t survive without you,” Cas whispers.

Dean looks down at him, surprised to see blue eyes focused in his general direction. He knows Cas can’t see him, but for a moment it feels like the staring is mutual. “I’ll do everything I can, baby.” He leans over and kisses Cas’ cheek again, and Cas sighs and settles back against Dean’s body’s chest again.

-

Wow, how could he be this stupid? He’s going to blame being basically dead on this one. As he turns the corner into the room ‘Tessa’ had been in, and finds her sitting against the bed. She’s in regular clothes now. “Hi, Dean,” she says in a frustratingly calm voice.

“You know, you read the most interesting things. For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't. Basically they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say, uh, a pretty girl.” He smirks at her, pushing down the anger. “You are much prettier than the last reaper I met.”

“I was wondering when you would figure it out.”

“I should have known. That whole ‘accepting fate’ rap of yours is way too laid back for a dead chick. Why keep toying with me? Why not just tell me?”

“You didn't give me much choice. You saw my true form and you flipped out. Kinda hurts a girl's feelings. This was the only way I could get you to talk to me.”

“Okay, fine. We're talking. What the hell do you want to talk about?”

She steps closer to him, setting him on edge. “How death is nothing to fear.” She touches his cheek, a chill running across his skin and down his spine. It feels like ice in his veins. “It's your time to go, Dean. And you're living on borrowed time already.”

Dean pulls away, but the cold stays even when the touch stops. “I been livin’ on borrowed time my whole life. Why stop now?”

Tessa rolls her eyes, but doesn’t otherwise react. Dean tries another tactic. “Why’d you say that thing about Cas? What did you mean? He in trouble, too?”

“Castiel is not what I expected, but his presence makes your reluctance to cross over make all the more sense.”

“You wouldn’t want to leave someone that hot, either, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, I’m sure. You’re changing the subject. It’s time.”

Dean growls and turns away from her, digging his hands in his hair and tugging. It doesn’t help. When he turns back around, she’s still standing there.

“Look, I'm sure you've heard this before, but... you've gotta make an exception, you've gotta cut me a break.”

She gives him a sublime smile. “Stage three: bargaining.”

-

When Dean wakes up, he aches all over and he’s exhausted even though it’s obvious he’s been out for days. Something heavy is laid over him. He looks down to find a messy head of dark hair on his chest. He reaches up to touch the greasy locks and big blue eyes raise up to meet his. “Dean?” Cas rasps, sitting up to look at him.

“Hey,” Dean rasps back, or tries to, but the tube down his throat doesn’t help. Cas is up and calling for a nurse in an instant.

-

Castiel is waiting outside Dean's room, impatient to see him but respectful enough of his father to give John the few minutes alone with Dean that John had given him. He doesn't hear what the two are talking about, but the low murmurs of their voices soothe him. Dean is alive and awake and once again going to be alright. That is enough of a comfort to wait a few more minutes to see him.

John appears in the doorway and pauses in front of Castiel, looking at him as if he has never seen him before. Castiel stands still, waiting. These last few days, they have had a sort of peace, driven by their mutual concern for Dean. Will this be the moment that John remembers who Castiel is to Dean?

John’s mouth turns down in a frown as he settles a heavy hand on Cas’ shoulder and looks him directly in the eyes. "Take care of him," he says with a level of gravity that humbles Castiel. He can do nothing but nod, held still under that gaze. John nods once, pats him on the shoulder, and walks past him without another word.

Castiel takes a moment to process what has just happened, trying to puzzle out what the meaning of the exchange could have been. It was almost as though John were saying goodbye, but that made no sense. Sam had said their father had decided to work with them. He wouldn't leave now, would he? Not while Dean is still recovering.

Cas shakes the experience off and goes into the room, happy to see Dean up and awake. Dean looks thin and fragile in the bed, still stuck with tubes and wires and bruised all over. He looks a little like he’s just been punched in the chest, staring off at the far wall. He doesn’t even look up until Castiel is next to the bed. The hurt shock bleeds off his face, replaced by a wide grin. “Hey you,” he says, reaching up to set a hand on Cas’ cheek. Cas returns his smile, leaning over the bar still raised at the side of the bed to kiss Dean gently on the lips.

“Hello, Dean,” he says, putting all the happiness and relief he feels at seeing Dean awake and whole into his words. He slips onto the bed, Dean shifting over to let him up.

“Sammy said you’ve been hanging out a couple days?”

“Mmhmm, you’ve kept me waiting.” He nods, reaching up to cup Dean’s chin. “I’m glad you’re here now.” He leans in, and Dean meets him half-way. The kisses they share are soft, slow, re-learning each other, Castiel always mindful that Dean still isn’t back to full health. He keeps a hand on Dean’s chest, feeling the easy up and down of his breaths.

-

Cas looks back at his phone again, frowning. “What’s wrong?” Angela asks, stepping up next to him.

He shakes his head, tucking the phone back in his pocket. “Nothing, just… Dean won’t answer his phone. He just lost his father; I know he’s hurting. I’m just worried, I guess.”

“Did you try his brother? Or their uncle?”

“I haven’t been that desperate yet. I think I will, though, if he doesn’t answer by tonight.” He forces a smile as a young undergrad approaches them with a pile of books and an annoyed look.

“I cannot find this book to save my life. Am I doing something wrong?” he asks, passing a piece of paper with a call number written on it. Cas pushes thoughts of Dean aside to help him.

-

“Dean’s phone. You know what to do,” Dean’s voicemail reminds him without even bothering to ring.

“Dean, answer your phone, please. You’ve only been out of the hospital a week. I need to know you’re recovering. I love you. Call me, please,” Cas says after the beep.

Avery raises an eyebrow at him from the kitchen, two beers in hand. “You still pining after that moron? Ever think maybe calling him three times a day isn’t working? I know he’s the love of your life, but that is some inconsiderate bullshit on his part.”

Cas glares at her. After living together for six years, Cas has learned to tolerate Avery’s less than subtle way of handling relationship issues, but after the month he’s had, he can’t do it today. “Please mind your own business,” he says as calmly as he can manage.

She deposits the beer in front of him a little harder than necessary and disappears down the hall. Cas will have to apologize for his rudeness later, but not right now. He calls Sam, and the news isn’t good.

  
-

When Cas finds the Impala in the maze of Bobby’s lot, all he can see of Dean is his bent, bowed legs in grease-spotted jeans. He takes a minute to admire the view, happy to get a view of Dean when Dean isn’t aware that he’s being watched. Dean lets out a loud curse and bangs something underneath the car, and Cas takes that as his cue to announce his presence.

“When I said I’d like to see you build a car from the ground up, I didn’t mean for you to smash up such a beauty to do it,” he calls out, leaning a shoulder against the hull of a dead Subaru.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Dean shouts, rolling out from under the car in a split second. He stares up at Cas for a full minute before saying anything. Cas lets him look, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest, waiting. “What are you doing here?” he asks finally, rocking into a sitting position and easily onto his feet. He rubs the grease off his hands onto his t-shirt as he steps over, looking confused, but not unhappy to see him.

“You weren’t answering my calls. I was worried. I see you aren’t dead. Thank you for letting me know.”

Dean looks to the side, guilty. “I’ve been busy, dude. I want to get her up and running again as soon as I can. I haven’t even turned my phone on in a day.”

“You had time enough to go on a hunt,” Cas counters, glaring.

“How do you know about that?”

“I’ve already been in the house. I talked to Bobby. And Sam.”

“Are you mad?”

Cas looks up at him and feels a ball of frustration and sadness and grief well up inside him and shakes his head. “No, Dean, I’m frustrated. And worried. My boyfriend just lost his father, and now he won’t answer his phone. All I want to do is help him, but I can’t because he won’t let me talk to him. What am I supposed to think?”

Dean’s jaw shifts, and he looks off at something behind Cas’ head. “Nothing to talk about. I’m fine.”

“That’s why you smashed the hell out of the trunk of your favorite possession?”

“How do you know I did that?”

“I have eyes. That damage wasn’t done by a truck. You aren’t fine. If you don’t want to talk about it, I will accept that for now, but you aren’t going to shut me out. I almost lost you. I’m not doing it again.”

“So what, you’re just gonna hang out here and stare me into talking? We gonna curl up on the couch together and cry over a pint of Häagen Dazs? Maybe watch the Notebook? Not gonna happen, babe. I’m done talking about my feelings. Doesn’t get me anywhere.”

Cas shifts his head to the side, trying to decide how to answer him in a way that won’t push him away. Finally he steps closer and rubs his hands up Dean’s bare arms. Dean’s always responds well to touch. “I don’t know what ‘The Notebook’ is, Dean. I’m going to find a seat and watch you fix your car. Is that acceptable to you?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Man, I gotta get you a tv for your birthday or something,” Dean mutters, turning back to the car. Cas hops up onto the hood of a dingy orange hatchback and gets comfortable. Dean’s under the hood a minute later. They don’t talk. In fact, the only sounds to be heard for over two hours are the bangings and clangings of Dean’s tools and faint curses from Dean, peppered by the occasional request for a tool that has Cas hopping down and digging through the tool box.

Eventually, Dean rolls out from underneath the car, sweaty and even dirtier than he’d been the first time. Cas can’t look away, even if he wanted to. Not that he does. Dean covered in grease and t-shirt clinging to his broad chest, soaked through in sweat, might be Cas’ favorite kind of Dean. Dean bends over his beat-up old cooler and pulls out two beers, twisting the caps off and striding over to Cas. Cas takes his beer, eyes lingering on the sweat trickling down Dean’s neck. “You know, the last time you looked at me like that, I got laid,” Dean says, all swagger, smirking into his beer.

“I believe I have already informed you of my interest in watching you fix cars. You are… very distracting.”

“Oh yeah?” He sidles closer, Cas spreading his legs to give him room.

“Yes.”

“Am I gonna get laid, then, Cas?” Dean asks, leaning in so close that they breathe into each other’s mouths.

Castiel raises an eyebrow at him. “How quickly can you fix the back seat?”

-

As it turns out, pretty quickly.

Cas rests his chin on his hands that are laying over Dean’s chest with a smirk. “I had no idea a backseat could be installed that quickly.”

“What can I say? You make a pretty great motivator.” Dean reaches up to comb fingers through Cas’ hair, smoothing one thumb over Cas’ temple. Cas doesn’t resist the urge to purr, rubbing his face against Dean’s nipple in pleasure. When he looks back up, Dean’s eyes have darkened, unfocused and sad.

“Talk to me,” Cas murmurs, pressing a kiss to Dean’s chest.

“Nothin’ to talk about.”

Castiel stays quiet, lulling Dean into thinking his blatant lie worked. He spends the time memorizing Dean’s face, even as Dean looks away from him. His fingers trail up and down Cas’ back, but they stop when Cas speaks again. “You know you don’t need to hide things from me. You can keep your strong emotionless routine with Sam and Bobby and anyone else you want, but you don’t need to do it with me.” Dean starts to make the annoyed face he gets when he’s about to brush off anything to do with feelings, but Cas sits up, straddling his lap and holding him pressed against the seat with both hands on his shoulders. “Dean, look at me.” A stare-down follows that lasts much too long before Dean finally caves. “Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Whatever’s been going round and round that head of yours. You think you’re hiding it, but I know there’s something.”

Dean doesn’t talk for a long time, but Castiel can see the thoughts turning over behind his eyes, so he waits. Finally, long minutes later. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

That wasn’t what Cas had expected to hear. “What do you mean? Here at Bobby’s, here with me?”

“Here on this planet. I was gonna die. I think my dad made a deal so I wouldn’t.”

Things started to click into place in Cas’ head. John’s final words, Dean’s silence. “As much as I dislike the way he showed it, your father loved you very much.”

“Not enough to die for me. That’s not how life is supposed to work,” Dean growls. He tries to push Cas off him to get up, but Cas makes himself as heavy as possible and holds on fast.

“That is exactly how life is supposed to go. Parents sacrifice themselves for their children every day. That is practically the definition of parenthood: sacrifice. John’s sacrifice was just more literal than is typical, but I can guarantee you that he does not regret his choice. Don’t belittle your memory of him by implying that your life wasn’t worth his.”

“It wasn’t! It isn’t. My dad was ten times the man I am.”

Cas sits up, glaring hard down at Dean, holding him down with firm hands on his shoulders. “You are the hardest working, most loyal, most self-sacrificing human being I know. You have saved more lives than can be numbered. Your entire life has been a long list of sacrifice after sacrifice: for John, for Sam, for me, for complete strangers. John’s purpose in hunting was vengeance, pure and simple. Yours is so much more noble.” Dean is scowling, but he’s gone soft under Cas’ hands, pliant. Cas lifts a hand to cup his cheek, making Dean’s eyes meet his. “Yours is a righteous cause. You want to help people, save them. You are twenty thousand times the better man.” He leans down to touch their lips together and feels Dean’s hand come up to lightly grip his hip.

“I still should be dead right now.”

Cas rolls his eyes at the stubborn words. “Well, I for one am very pleased that you are not. I would have been devastated if I had lost you. I don’t think I could have survived it. Think about that the next time you want to go on a moping self-loathing binge, hmm?”

Dean pushes at his shoulder, scowling again. “’M not moping.”

“No, you’re grieving, and that’s alright. You should grieve. You just can’t shut me out of it. Your father’s last words to me were to take care of you. Let me.”

“Dad told you to take care of me? I thought he hated you.”

“Mmm, I don’t think I’ve ever done very well at hiding my own distaste for him, either, but I think now that maybe he was just scared.”

“Scared? My dad never got scared.”

“He most certainly did. He was scared of losing you, just like he was scared of losing Sam to Stanford. While you were with him, you were safe, and he didn’t have to feel lonely. But if you chose to stop hunting, settle down with me the way Sam chose to leave to start a life of his own, John would have been all alone. He didn’t want that any more than he’d wanted to watch Sam leave.”

The corners of Dean’s mouth are curved downwards, but he doesn’t say anything. “The point is, in the end, John wanted you to be taken care of, and he knew that I would be more than up for the task. But I can’t do that if you don’t let me in.”

“You’re in. You’re more in than I’ve ever let anyone be.”

“I know that, and I appreciate it, but I need you to answer your phone. And to not lie to me. We haven’t talked about it because there were other, more important issues to be dealt with, but I do not appreciate finding out what has been happening in your life second-hand from Sam only after you are on death’s door, literally.”

Dean lets out a loud sigh and stretches, wiggling his way out from under Cas and right out the open cavity where the back passenger-side door should be. He grabs his underwear and jeans from the floor of the car and pulls them on, looking around for Sam or Bobby even though Cas had told them both it was probably not safe to come looking for them until at least dinnertime. It is clear from Dean’s expression that the conversation is over, at least for the moment. Cas sighs and pulls on his own clothes, deciding to let the matter go. He resumes his place on the hatchback so he can keep watching Dean work.


End file.
